4(r 


A 


SANDRO  BOTTICELLI 


BY 

E.  SCHAEFFER 

TRANSLATED  BY 

FRANCIS  F.  COX 


New  York  : 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 


Printed  in  Great  Britain. 


All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS 


troductory — Botticelli's  Place  in  Florentine  Art — His 
Early  History — Filippo  Lippi,  the  Pollajuoli, 
Verrocchio — Fortitude — Judith  and  Holof ernes — S. 
Sebastian — Botticelli,  Landscape  Artist — Painter  of 
Madonnas — Influence  of  Dante — The  Magnificat 
— Madonna  of  the  Palms — Adoration  of  the  Magi — 
The  Medici  at  Florence — S.  Augustine — Botticelli 
Summoned  to  Rome — The  Frescoes  of  the 
Sistine  Chapel — The  Louvre  Frescoes — Leone 
Battista  Alberti — Pallas  Subduing  a  Centaur — Spring 
— TSirth  of  Venus — Mars  and  Venus — Calumny  of 
Apelles — Savonarola — The  Nativity — The  Divina 
Commedia — Poverty  and  Neglect — The  End — List 
of  Works. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Mars    and    Venus.       London,    National    Gallery  (Photo- 
gravure)  Frontispiece 

Facing 
page 

Fortitude.     Florence,  Uffizi  6 

S.  Sebastian.     Berlin,  Royal  Gallery    .        .        .       .  .10 

Head  of  the  Madonna.    Florence,  Uffizi  (From  the  "  Mag- 
nificat ")   .  . 


20 


The  Daughters  of  Jethro.     Rome,  Sistine  Chapel  (Detail 

from  the  History  of  Moses)   36 

Spring.    Florence,  Accademia   4.4. 

The  Birth  of  Venus.    Florence,  Uffizi  (Photogravure)        .  46 

Salome.    Florence,  Accademia     ......  50 

The  Calumny  of  Apelles.    Florence,  Uffizi       .        .  .52 

The  Nativity,    London,  National  Gallerv    ....  60 


SANDRO  BOTTICELLI 


I 

IN  a  chapel  of  the  church  of  S.  Maria  Maggiore 
at  Florence  there  was  preserved  during  long 
centuries  a  painting  of  the  Assumption  of  the 
Virgin,  the  creation  of  Sandro  Botticelli.  The 
Holy  Inquisition  had  detected  in  this  apparently- 
pious  work  the  taint  of  an  abominable  heresy,  and 
shrouded  it  by  means  of  a  curtain  from  the  gaze  of 
true  believers.  For  Botticelli  in  his  conception  of 
the  angels  had  adhered  to  a  damnable  doctrine  of 
Origen,  who  maintained  that  the  souls  of  those 
angels  who  remained  neutral  at  the  time  of 
Lucifer's  rebellion  were  doomed  by  the  Deity  to 
work  out  their  salvation  by  undergoing  a  period  of 
probation  in  the  bodies  of  men.  To  be  consistent 
in  its  severity,  the  Inquisition  should  have  seques- 
trated or  burnt  every  picture  that  came  from  the 
hand  of  Botticelli  ;  for  all  are  open  to  the  same 
reproach  ;  in  each  we  divine  beneath  the  forms  of 
men  the  souls  of  banished  angels. 

"  Child  of  the  Sun,  far  from  my  father's  kingdom, 
Longing  for  home  .  .  ." 


2 


BOTTICELLI 


It  is  thus  that  we  interpret  the  wistful  gaze  of 
Botticelli's  men  and  women  ;  this  is  the  feeling 
that  speaks  in  their  lofty  gestures,  and  yet  more 
eloquently  in  their  buoyant  forms,  so  free  from  the 
taint  of  earth's  heaviness,  music  in  line  and  colour. 
Christian  Saints  and  pagan  Graces,  they  pace 
forlorn  with  alien  footsteps  through  this  vale  of 
tears,  chilled  by  vain  yearnings  for  a  lost  homeland 
where  all  is  sunshine  and  brightness. 

In  order  to  recognise  as  an  historical  necessity 
the  apparition  of  Botticelli  in  the  development  of 
Florentine  culture,  we  must  carry  our  thoughts 
very  far  back.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  up  to  the  beginning  of  the  Quattro- 
cento, barren  party  strife  ran  high  in  the  narrow 
streets  of  the  city  on  the  Arno.  Her  strongly- 
built,  battlemented  houses  were  often  enough  con- 
verted into  fortresses,  and  the  swords  of  those  who 
dwelt  therein  seldom  rusted  through  want  of 
use.  To  this  very  day  the  tower  of  the  Palazzo 
Vecchio  rears  its  head  far  above  the  roofs  for 
a  token  of  those  stormy  times,  as  though  it 
still  kept  watch  and  ward  against  the  foe.  The 
very  chronicles  of  the  Trecento  would  seem 
to  have  been  written  not  with  the  pen  but  with 
the  sword,   and    in   their  sonorous   periods  we 


BOTTICELLI 


3 


hear  at  times  the  menacing  rattle  of  the  panoply 
of  War. 

"  Liberty  "  was  the  all-potent  watchword  of  the 
day.  It  comprised  all  that  the  Florentines  ambi- 
tioned  on  this  side  of  the  tomb  ;  beauty  was  the 
hoped-for  heritage  of  a  world  beyond  the  grave. 
Yet  were  there  few  so  learned  that  the  written 
word  had  power  to  convey  to  them  any  compre- 
hensible idea  of  the  joys  of  Heaven  ;  and  it  became 
the  task  of  Art  to  foreshadow  in  rich  gold  and' 
glowing  colour,  for  the  benefit  of  the  "  uomini 
grossi,  che  non  sanno  lettere,"  the  glories  of  the 
Life  to  come.  This  could,  of  course,  only  be 
accomplished  by  means  of  imagery  borrowed  from 
the  material  life  of  this  world,  but  there  was  never  a 
question  of  depicting  that  life  for  its  own  sake  alone. 

By  degrees  the  turmoil  of  strife  was  stilled,  and 
Peace  reigned  once  more  in  Florence.  No  longer 
obscured  by  the  mists  of  angry  passions,  the  eyes  of 
the  Florentine  citizen  fastened  with  joyous  eager- 
ness upon  the  glories  of  this  mortal  world.  This 
newly  developed  sense  found  expression  in  a  new 
departure  in  Art.  From  henceforth  it  is  the 
beauties  of  our  earthly  existence — Man  and  the 
things  about  him — that  claim  the  tribute  of  the 
painter's  skill.    Artists  arose  who,  following  in  the 


4 


BOTTICELLI 


train  of  Donatello  and  Masaccio,  achieved  mastery- 
over  all  the  forms  of  expression  known  to  Art,  and 
brought  whole  realms  of  fresh  material  within  their 
scope.  Those  mighty  masters  whose  imagery  still 
breathed  all  the  sinister  but  epic  turbulence  of  the 
Trecento  were  followed  by  disciples  who  were 
already  in  a  position  to  reap  where  their  forerunners 
had  sown.  The  realm  of  the  earthly  was  annexed 
to  the  domain  of  Art,  and  they  discoursed  in  glow- 
ing compositions  of  the  charms  of  this  New  World. 
Fra  Filippo  Lippi's  fresco  of  Herod's  Feast  in  the 
Duomo  of  Prato  embodies  all  that  makes  for  joie  de 
vivre.  The  radiantly  lighted  halls  resound  with 
melody,  youths  arrayed  in  festal  attire  meet  the  eye 
on  every  side,  and  fluttering  draperies  suggest  the 
gracious  lines  of  slender  virgin  forms.  "  Wise 
men "  declared  this  age,  for  which  Cosimo  de* 
Medici  stood  sponsor,  "  to  be  the  best  that  had  ever 
fallen  to  the  lot  of  Florence."  But  no  later  than  in 
the  next  generation  there  were  to  be  found  unwise 
men,  who  no  longer  delighted  in  mere  existence,  to 
whom  reality  was  stale  and  repellent,  who  yearned 
for  a  life  of  greater  spirituality,  and  demanded  sensa- 
tions of  a  higher  degree  of  rarity  and  refinement. 

Now  the  first  artist  to  reject  beyond  the  pale  of 
his  art  all  that  belonged  to  the  material  world — 


BOTTICELLI 


5 


timidly  and  tentatively  at  first,  but  as  time  went  on, 
with  ever-increasing  vehemence — and  to  fix  on  his 
canvas  in  form  and  colour  a  dream  of  plaintive 
beauty,  was  Sandro  Botticelli.  His  aristocratic 
nature  was  certainly  not  inherited  from  his  father  ; 
for  old  Mariano  Filipepi  plied  the  honest  trade  of  a 
tanner,  and  vented  his  displeasure  freely  enough  on 
his  youthful  Sandro.  For  the  latter  learning  had  no 
charms  ;  neither  could  he  reconcile  himself  for  long 
to  the  routine  of  a  goldsmith's  workshop.  So  the 
old  man  brought  the  lad,  who  had  acquired  in  the 
meantime — no  one  knows  why* — the  surname  of 
Botticelli,  to  Fra  Filippo,  the  jovial  painter-monk. 
But  the  joyous  sensuousness  of  the  Master's  style 
remained  all  his  life  long  uncongenial  to  Sandro. 
He  admired  the  Frate's  compositions,  but  his 
robustly  healthy  types  excited  in  him  no  feeling 
but  that  of  repugnance.  All  Botticelli's  aspirations 
lay  in  the  direction  of  charm  and  graceful  elegance, 
and  these  were  precisely  the  qualities  in  which  Fra 
Filippo's  creations  were  lacking ;  hence  it  was  that 
Sandro  at  an  early  stage  in  his  career  chose  out 
Antonio  Pollajuolo  and  Andrea  del  Verrocchio  to 
*  It  is  commonly  accepted  that  Sandro  derived  his 
surname  of  Botticelli  from  the  goldsmith  to  whom  he 
was  apprenticed. 


6 


BOTTICELLI 


be  his  models.  Pleasing  to  him  indeed  were  the 
plastic  modelling  of  Antonio's  figures,  the  firmness 
and  certainty  of  his  line,  his  joy  in  the  delicate 
moulding  of  youthful  forms.  Verrocchio,  too, 
appealed  to  him  by  his  sense  of  all  that  was  bright 
and  pleasing,  which  yet  never  degenerated  into 
meticulous  trifling,  and  it  is  to  Verrocchio's  influence 
that  modern  critics  are  prone  to  impute  all  such 
details  as  the  rounded  type  of  face  encountered  in 
Botticelli's  early  compositions,  the  protuberant, 
bulging  foreheads  of  his  earlier  Madonnas,  their 
elevated  brows  and  drooping  eyelids.  But  even 
though  the  sight  of  Sandro's  more  youthful  efforts 
may  at  times  suggest  to  us  the  names  of  Filippo 
Lippi,  Antonio  Pollajuolo,  and  Andrea  del  Ver- 
rocchio, there  is  never  wanting  to  such  works  a  full 
measure  of  that  individuality  of  Botticelli's  which 
constitutes  their  peculiar  charm. 

Take  for  instance  his  allegory  of  Valour,  that 
Fortitude  of  the  Uffizi,  which  once  adorned,  in 
company  with  five  other  "  Virtues"  by  Antonio  and 
Piero  Pollajuolo,  a  wall  in  the  Florentine  Merca- 
tanzia.  The  creations  of  the  two  brothers  may 
likewise  now  be  studied  in  the  Uffizi.  Comparable, 
in  their  masculine  sternness  and  severity,  with  the 
hieratic  Madonnas  of  the  Primitives,  the  "  Virtues  " 


Florence,  Vffizi 

FORTITUDE 


BOTTICELLI 


7 


of  the  Pollajuoli  sit  enthroned  in  niches  of  marble, 
whose  finely  chiselled  ornamentation  betrays  the 
skilled  hand  of  the  goldsmith.  Hope  raises  her  eyes 
in  conventional  fashion  toward  Heaven,  while  the 
others  gaze  with  cold  and  lofty  serenity  straight 
before  them  into  the  infinite.  The  background  of 
Sandro's  Fortitude  also  consists  of  a  niche  of  bright- 
hued  shining  marble,  wherein  she  sits — by  no  means 
"  enthroned,"  but  with  her  head  sideways  inclined, 
idly  dreaming.  A  mace  lies  in  her  hands,  but  this 
woman,  in  whom  there  is  no  trace  of  the  virago,  could 
never  brandish  the  weapon  in  wrath.  Botticelli 
clave  to  the  Pollajuoli's  style  of  composition,  to 
their  types,  even  to  their  technical  methods,  and  yet 
he  has  painted  here  simply  a  maiden  lost  in  medita- 
tion. His  nature  was  essentially  lyric  ;  a  woman 
meant  more  to  him  than  a  mailclad  abstraction. 

Yet  he  loved  the  glitter  of  weapons  ;  not,  how- 
ever, like  Castagno  and  Uccello,  as  the  stern 
embodiment  of  a  living  principle,  but  purely  from 
the  painter's  point  of  view.  The  sullen  gleam  of 
highly  polished  steel  thrilled  him  from  the  first  with 
artistic  delight,  and  here  in  his  Fortitude  the  glitter 
of  the  metal  vambrace  blends  with  white  and  blue 
into  a  delicate  harmony  which  we  should  seek  in 
vain  throughout  the  whole  range  of  the  Pollajuoli's 


8 


BOTTICELLI 


compositions.  Sandro's  absolute  mastery  of  line  is 
universally  recognised,  but  we  are  seldom  reminded 
that  Botticelli  was  also  the  most  gifted  colourist, 
the  greatest  master  of  technique  of  the  Florentine 
Quattrocento.  We  may  search  any  portion,  any 
detail,  any  corner  of  his  compositions  for  evidences 
of  superlative  craftsmanship,  and  find  of  a  certainty 
more  rich  reward  than  in  the  entire  pictures  of  most 
of  his  contemporaries. 

Of  the  greatness  of  Botticelli's  powers  even  in 
his  youth  we  have  still  clearer  evidence  in  two 
small  pictures  which  found  their  way  from  Bianca 
Capello's  "  Studio  "  to  the  Uffizi.  They  portray 
two  episodes  in  the  legend  of  Judith — the  return  of 
the  Hebrew  heroine  from  the  Assyrian  camp,  and 
the  discovery  of  the  dead  body  of  Holofernes. 
Botticelli's  specific  qualities  assert  themselves  here, 
especially  in  the  former  picture,  yet  more  unmis- 
takably than  in  the  Fortitude.  The  orange  and 
violet  of  the  draperies  harmonise  with  the  grey  of 
dawn  in  a  colour-scheme  which  no  other  Florentine 
artist  could  have  evolved  ;  neither  could  any  other 
have  been  capable  of  such  an  original  conception  of 
the  figure  of  Judith.  In  republican  Florence  she 
stood  for  the  emblem  of  civil  liberty;  but  the 
"  Liberatrix  patriae  suae  "  who  lives  in  Donatello's 


BOTTICELLI 


9 


bronze — her  pathetic  gloom,  her  noble  rage — left 
the  youthful  Botticelli  cold.  Once  again  he  painted 
a  dreaming  woman,  with  all  the  charm  that  might 
attend  a  softer  sister  of  his  Fortitude.  Like  her, 
too,  she  droops  her  fair  head,  while  her  maiden 
orbs,  deep  sunk  in  reverie,  reflect  the  grisly  horror 
of  the  night  that  is  past.  Behind  her  the  peaceful 
calm  of  dawn  is  shattered  by  the  din  of  battle ;  she 
hears,  but  she  heeds  not.  Neither  fear  nor  joy  lend 
wings  to  her  footsteps.  She  wanders  on  with  slow 
and  loitering  tread  towards  Bethulia.  Botticelli 
appreciated  to  the  full  the  charm  of  contrast,  and 
therefore  he  gave  to  this  patrician  creature  for  a 
companion  a  dull-witted  waiting-maid,  who  bears 
the  head  of  Holofernes  poised  upon  her  own  with 
the  indifference  of  one  carrying  a  pitcher  of  water. 
Her  plebeian  stride,  too,  stands  out  in  sharp  contrast 
with  Judith's  queenly  gait. 

In  the  'Discovery  of  the  Body  of  Holofernes,  also, 
many  traits  are  preserved  which  indicate,  like 
finger-posts,  the  road  of  Botticelli's  later  develop- 
ment. Here,  for  instance,  his  horror  of  what  may 
be  described  as  blank  spots  in  the  composition  is 
clearly  apparent.  Every  single  one  of  the  Assyrian 
warriors  surrounding  the  headless  trunk  seems  to 
quake  in  his  very  marrow  at  the  grisly  spectacle. 


10 


BOTTICELLI 


Each  expresses  in  his  pose  the  stupefaction  that 
overwhelms  him,  and  every  gesture  reveals  the 
individuality  of  the  artist.  This  virtue  Sandro 
occasionally  elaborates  into  a  fault.  In  his  anxiety 
to  portray  with  the  highest  degree  of  vividness  the 
individual  character  of  each  unit,  he  loses  sight  of 
the  general  effect  of  all  these  varied  expressions  and 
gestures.  The  pose  of  one  figure  cramps  the 
freedom  of  his  neighbour's  arm  ;  the  heads  are 
squeezed  together,  the  space  seems  overcrowded 
and  the  composition  confused. 

How  close  was  the  connection  between  the 
Botticelli  of  those  days  and  Pollajuolo,  the  greatest 
Florentine  master  of  the  nude,  is  shown  by  his 
rendering  of  the  corpse  of  Holofernes,  and  still 
more  clearly  by  his  single  figure  of  S.  Sebastian, 
dating  from  the  year  1473,  in  the  Berlin  Museum. 
At  one  time  this  picture  even  bore  the  name  of 
Antonio  Pollajuolo  ;  strangely  enough,  for  it  is  full 
of  the  spirit  of  Botticelli  !  Think  but  for  a  moment 
of  Pollajuolo's  S.  Sebastian  in  the  National  Gallery. 
Antonio,  the  sculptor-painter,  saw  the  Saint  merely 
as  a  posed  figure,  and  his  executioners  only  as  a 
combination  of  various  problems  of  motion.  For 
Sandro,  on  the  contrary,  the  spirit  of  the  work  was 
the  first  consideration.  The  minions  of  the  law 
have  already  left  the  place  of  execution,  and  are 


Pltoto.  Hanfstaeiigl  Berlin,  Royal  Gallery 

S.  SEBASTIAN 


BOTTICELLI 


ii 


disappearing  in  the  distance.  All  is  over.  No  one 
pays  any  further  heed  to  the  Saint,  pierced  with 
arrows  and  still  fettered  to  his  tree.  Yet  he  seems 
unconscious  of  his  pain.  His  nobly  cut  features, 
with  the  fine  lines  of  suffering  about  the  lips,  are 
only  slightly  bowed.  We  are  rather  reminded  of 
an  ephebe  of  Praxiteles  than  of  a  Christian  martyr. 
A  few  paces  behind  the  Saint  a  young  tree  stretches 
its  leafless  branches,  as  though  in  accusation,  into 
the  air.  A  cypress  or  two,  barren  rocks  and  sea 
form  the  background  of  the  picture.  This  whole 
setting  is  impressive  in  its  dreary  poverty,  but  are 
we  not  told  that  "  Botticelli  had  no  real  sympathy 
with  Nature,  and  always  treated  landscape  as  a  mere 
accessory  "  !  This  maxim  represents  one  of  those 
evergreen  fallacies  of  art  criticism  which  are  handed 
down  intact  from  one  generation  of  writers  to  the 
next !  And  no  wonder  !  for  is  it  not  written  in 
Leonardo  da  Vinci's  "  Treatise  on  Painting  :  "  Thus 
said  our  Botticelli,  that  the  study  of  landscape 
is  a  vain  pursuit,  and  that  did  one  but  throw  a 
sponge  filled  with  varied  colours  against  the  wall,  it 
would  leave  there  a  stain  which  would  present  all 
the  features  of  a  landscape  .  .  .  and  truly  that 
painter  wrought  but  very  dismal  landscapes  "  ? 

Whether  Sandro  uttered  these  words  in  earnest 
or  out  of  pure  joy  in  paradox,  at  this  distance  of 


12 


BOTTICELLI 


time  who  shall  decide  ?  But  if  we  base  our  judg- 
ment, not  on  Leonardo's  phases,  but  on  Botticelli's 
own  compositions,  we  find  the  creator  of  those 
"  tristissimi  paesi "  transformed  into  a  great  land- 
scape painter.  His  Graces  and  Goddesses  wend 
their  way  through  a  very  carpet  of  flowers,  bright 
with  a  thousand  varied  hues.  Violets,  anemones, 
tender  young  grass  quivering  beneath  the  zephyr's 
kiss — all  are  portrayed  with  the  most  painstaking 
observation  of  the  individual  forms  of  each  plant 
and  flower.  Sandro  paints  "  the  golden  orange  in 
its  dusky  bower  "  :  many  a  picture  of  his  exhales  the 
perfume  of  snowy  lilies  and  of  blushing  roses,  and 
four  centuries  ago  Botticelli  had  already  mastered  a 
truth  that  passes  for  a  modern  discovery — the  poetry 
of  barrenness,  the  solemn  awesomeness  of  desolation. 
Seas  leaden  of  hue  and  motionless,  blue-grey  skies, 
rocks  cleft  in  deep  ravines,  stretches  of  brown  sand 
— such  "symphonies  in  silence,"  to  use  the  language 
of  to-day,  Botticelli  many  a  time  and  oft  composed. 
There  is  in  his  landscapes  a  certain  quality  of 
primaeval  grandeur,  of  chaste  mystery.  Saints  and 
divinities  alone  should  dwell  therein  :  there  is  no 
place  there  for  those  beings  of  mortal  mould  who  lend 
such  appropriate  animation  to  the  topographically  con- 
ceived "  views  "  of  Baldovinetti  and  the  Pollajuoli, 
or  the  scenery  of  Ghirlandajo  and  his  school. 


II 


BOTTICELLI  died  unmarried.  "  One  day," 
relates  a  Florentine  writer  of  the  Cinque- 
cento,  "  Messer  Tommaso  Soderini  was 
urging  him  to  enter  into  matrimony,  but  Sandro 
answered  :  'I  will  tell  you  a  thing.  A  few  nights 
since  I  dreamt  that  I  had  taken  a  wife.  Thereupon 
such  anguish  seized  me  that  I  awoke,  and,  lest  I 
might  again  fall  asleep  and  once  more  dream  the 
like,  I  arose  and  ran  like  one  possessed  all  night 
long  through  the  streets  of  Florence.'  " 

This  charming  anecdote,  an  epitome  of  all  that 
has  come  down  to  us  of  Botticelli's  attitude  toward 
women,  merely  shows  how  Sandro,  after  the  manner 
of  many  other  great  men,  entrenched  himself  against 
well-meaning  importunities  behind  a  bulwark  of 
airy  badinage.  In  very  truth  an  important  role  in 
his  life  was  allotted  to  the  feminine  idea,  and  his 
works—  more  especially  his  Madonnas — proclaim 
distinctly  enough  that  which  bashfulness  of  spirit 
prevented  his  acknowledging.  Mary,  blessed  and 
holy,  remains  the  central  figure  of  his  creations, 
13 


BOTTICELLI 


but  she  is  never  the  unapproachable  "  Regina 
Coeli "  of  the  Middle  Ages,  enthroned  in  stiff, 
unbending  glory  ;  rather  is  she  the  timid  <c  Ancilla 
Domini,"  doomed  to  suffer  as  no  other  mortal 
woman  had  suffered,  and  therefore  better  able  than 
any  other  to  fathom  the  uttermost  depths  of  human 
woe. 

"  Vergine  Madre,  figlia  del  tuo  figlio,"  * 

the  opening  line  of  that  jubilant  hymn  to  the 
Virgin  which  Dante  put  into  the  mouth  of  his 
S.  Bernard,  was  inscribed  by  Botticelli  upon  the 
pedestal  of  Mary's  throne  in  a  great  altar-piece  of 
the  Florentine  Accademia.  Taken  in  conjunction 
with  the  next  line, 

"  Umile  ed  alta  piu  che  creatura," 

we  have  here  the  key-note  ofall  Botticelli's  Madonnas. 
Majesty  and  humility,  virgin  modesty  and  maternal 
affection,  spiritual  self-surrender  to  the  sacred  Son 
— Botticelli  welded  the  whole  into  an  indissoluble 
entity.     In  his  soul  there  was  something  both  of 

*  "  Oh,  Virgin-Mother,  daughter  of  thy  Son  ! 
Created  beings  all  in  lowliness 
Surpassing,  as  in  height  above  them  all."  .  .  . 

(Cary's  Translation.) 


BOTTICELLI 


i5 


the  monk  and  the  troubadour ;  in  his  religious 
pictures  Sandro  seems  a  lyrical  ascetic,  with  all  the 
earnestness  of  conviction,  and  yet  full  of  sweet 
melody.  The  lyric  painter  developed  with  the 
years  into  the  master  of  pathos.  His  powers  of 
expression  became  richer  and  fuller.  The  subdued 
and  plaintive  note  of  his  earlier  period  now  swelled 
into  sonorous  organ-tones,  but  even  in  these  later 
creations  his  aim  is  still  the  same.  Dante's  verses 
shine  like  lode-stars  above  every  path  trodden  by 
Sandro  Botticelli,  painter  of  Madonnas. 

The  art  of  the  Middle  Ages  knew  only  the 
solemn  Queen,  about  whose  throne  the  "  barons  of 
Christ "  stand  arrayed  like  holy  Paladins.  Fra 
Filippo,  Sandro's  master,  was  the  first  to  break 
with  the  severely  conceived  picture  of  devout  cere- 
monial, and  painted  a  youthful  Florentine  caressing 
her  bambino,  while  a  couple  of  merry  angel-boys  watch 
the  twain  at  their  familiar  sport.  Botticelli  adopted 
this  idea  of  his  teacher's,  but  in  accordance  with 
his  own  innermost  nature  spiritualised  it,  and 
turned  the  family  idyll  into  a  tragedy.  An  early 
Madonna  of  Sandro's,  which  once  belonged  to 
Prince  Chigi,  reveals  the  entire  essential  difference 
between  Botticelli  and  his  master  all  the  more 
clearly,  in  that  its  composition  reveals  throughout 


i6 


BOTTICELLI 


faint  traces  of  the  Frate's  style.  Fra  Filippo's 
joyous  angel  has  been  transformed  into  a  pale 
celestial  squire  of  dames.  Bearing  ears  of  corn  and 
bunches  of  grapes,  the  symbols  of  the  Eucharist,  he 
advances  with  a  joyless  smile,  his  eyes  half  closed, 
into  the  presence  of  the  Madonna  and  her  divine 
Son.  Lost  in  deep  thought  Mary  grasps  a  single 
stalk,  while  the  Child  Jesus  reclining  in  her  lap 
blesses  with  His  infant  hand  the  emblems  of  His 
Passion.  Here  we  recognise  that  Botticelli  of  the 
heavy  heart,  to  whom  laughter  is  unknown,  and 
whose  lips  seldom  curl  even  into  a  mournful  smile. 
His  Madonna  and  his  Child  Jesus  alike  have  ever 
the  Cross  of  Golgotha  before  their  eyes.  Hence 
the  solemn  earnestness  of  the  Child,  and  hence  the 
hopeless  resignation  that  dwells  unchanged  in 
Mary's  eyes.  Hence  it  is  that  for  very  anguish  of 
spirit  the  Madonna  often  dares  not  look  upon  her 
own  Child  ;  hence  it  is  that  she  clasps  Him  anew 
in  a  convulsion  of  agony  to  her  bosom,  and  there 
holds  Him  fast  with  both  arms,  as  though  she 
would  shield  him  from  some  wanton  marauder. 

The  angels,  too,  descending  from  high  Heaven 
to  draw  near  in  lowly  homage  to  the  Son  of  Man, 
those  neurotic  creatures  whose  eyes  glow  with  the 
flickering  flame  of  fever — they  know  only  too  well 


BOTTICELLI 


i7 


the  doom  that  awaits  the  Redeemer.  Their  locks 
are  twined  with  garlands,  but  the  pale  lips  that 
strive  in  vain  to  intone  hymns  of  jubilation  are 
twisted  by  the  pangs  of  suppressed  anguish,  and  we 
seem  to  catch  instead  the  hollow  tones  of  a  funeral 
dirge. 

Botticelli  gave  to  the  Child  Jesus  for  a  playmate 
the  infant  S.  John,  an  hysterical  boy  with  eyes  that 
glitter  with  disease.  He  likewise  is  haunted  by  a 
foreboding  of  the  path  of  sorrow  that  both  Jesus 
and  he  must  tread.  For  at  times  he  kneels  before 
the  Heaven-sent  Child,  and  consecrating  himself  to 
his  service  lays  his  right  hand  upon  his  heart,  or 
folds  his  tender  arms  across  his  childish  breast  in 
the  Oriental  attitude  of  willing  submission.  Or, 
again,  these  two  boys,  over  whose  heads  broods  the 
shadow  of  an  early  doom,  embrace  as  though  in  an 
eternal  farewell. 

We  possess  many  paintings  of  this  description, 
which  were  intended  for  the  most  part  as  aids  to 
private  devotion.  In  nothing  but  their  design, 
however,  do  they  display  the  true  Botticelli  spirit. 
Sandro  committed  their  execution,  after  the  custom 
of  the  studio,  to  his  assistants,  and  such  pictures 
can  only  be  considered  in  the  light  of  more  or  less 
successful  examples  of  the  work  of  his  School. 

B 


i8 


BOTTICELLI 


Unfortunately,  compositions  of  this  kind  which  are 
the  work  of  Sandro's  own  hand,  and  which  combine 
poetic  conception  and  consummate  technical  execu- 
tion in  one  triumphant  whole,  are  rare. 

Of  such  as  exist,  we  may  without  fear  of 
contradiction  bestow  the  palm  of  beauty  on  the 
so-called  Magnificat  of  the  Uffizi.  This  painting  is 
a  tondo,  that  is  to  say,  of  that  circular  form  which 
may  be  considered  characteristic  of  Botticelli  and 
his  School.  Putting  aside  plastic  art,  however,  even 
in  this  particular  Fra  Filippo  was  the  forerunner 
of  Botticelli.  His  Madonna  and  Child  in  the  Pitti  is 
in  fact  the  earliest  religious  tondo  that  occurs  in 
Florentine  painting.  But  the  Frate  saw  in  this 
circular  form  nothing  but  a  fortuitous  external 
feature,  without  the  slightest  influence  upon  the 
general  composition  of  the  picture.  Sandro's 
Magnificat,  on  the  contrary,  was  expressly  con- 
ceived as  a  tondo.  The  pose  of  the  Virgin  herself 
and  of  one  of  the  Angels,  with  the  arms  of  two 
others,  repeat  to  a  slight  extent,  yet  with  obvious 
intention,  the  circular  outline  of  the  frame,  while  a 
rare  softness  of  modelling  prevails  throughout  the 
composition.  These  are  without  doubt  superlative 
qualities,  but  even  the  Magnificat  is  marred  by  that 
inevitable  weakness    of  Botticellian    tondi>  that 


BOTTICELLI 


*9 


crowded  and  at  the  same  time  confused  composition 
which  is  always  so  apparent  where  the  artist  is 
dealing  with  life-size  figures — more  so,  for  instance, 
than  in  the  small  Holofernes  described  above.  In 
the  presence  of  these  large  heads,  massed  together 
in  clusters,  we  are  hardly  aware  of  the  bodies.  We 
see  an  open  Bible  on  which  the  Virgin  is  inscribing 
the  hymn  identified  with  herself ;  but  it  would  be 
impossible  precisely  to  determine  upon  what  it  is 
resting,  and  the  inkstand  would  infallibly  slip  from 
the  hands  of  the  Angel  who  is  offering  it  to  Mary. 
The  crown  above  the  Madonna's  head  is  supported 
upon  the  outstretched  fingers  of  angels,  and  the 
latter  make  not  the  slightest  attempt  to  grasp  or  to 
hold  it. 

Such  are  the  criticisms  frequently  heard  in  the 
presence  of  this  picture.  But  may  not  Botticelli  in 
this  latter  instance  have  availed  himself  of  the 
privilege  reserved  to  the  greatest  masters,  and 
deliberately  executed  these  details  "out  of  draw- 
ing "  ?  This  painting  appears  marvellously  free 
from  the  grossness  of  earth.  Had  he,  for  instance, 
like  Fra  Filippo  in  his  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  in 
the  Accademia,  depicted  the  crown  as  a  ponderable 
circlet  of  gold,  weighing  heavily  upon  the  fingers, 
he  would  have  struck  a  discord — a  forte  in  the 


20 


BOTTICELLI 


pianissimo  of  his  composition.  Hence  Sandro  did 
not,  after  the  manner  of  other  painters,  represent 
the  crown  as  a  tangible  mass  of  metal,  but  as  it 
were  etherialised,  transformed  into  a  golden  radi- 
ance emanating  from  the  Holy  Spirit  above,  and 
condensed  in  its  descent  into  innumerable  stars 
floating  unsupported  with  solemn  lustre  high  above 
the  Virgin's  head.  In  contrast  with  the  heads  of 
Judith  and  Fortitude,  this  crowned  handmaiden  of 
the  Lord  recalls  no  single  feature  of  the  Pollajuoli 
type  of  countenance — rounded,  yet  bony.  A 
slightly  inclined,  oval  face,  dreamy  in  its  soft 
pallor  ;  full,  yet  finely-cut  lips  opening  as  though 
in  soft  inquiry  ;  a  mouth  with  corners  unusually 
rounded  ;  eyes  that  seem  to  search  the  past  or  the 
future,  but  never  the  present ;  silky  tresses  twisted 
first  of  all  into  heavy  coils  and  escaping  thence  to 
ripple  in  waves  of  golden  brown  from  under  a 
white  veil  down  the  cheeks,  and  fall  upon  the 
shoulders — such  are  the  attributes  which  go  to 
make  up  that  Botticellian  type,  of  whose  beauty 
such  a  catalogue  is  truly  powerless  to  convey  the 
faintest  conception. 

Botticelli's  pictures  do  not  in  fact  lend  them- 
selves to  precise  description.  We  may  indeed 
investigate  by  a  process  of  pedantic  analysis  the 


HEAD  OF  THE  MADONNA. 
{From  the  '\Magnificat ") 


Florence,  Uffizi 


BOTTICELLI 


21 


secret  of  their  spell,  but  their  charm  is  no  more  to 
be  expressed  in  written  language  than  is  a  melody 
or  a  chord  of  music.  This  truth  is  rooted  in  the 
very  essence  of  Botticelli's  art. 

Previously  the  painters  of  the  Quattrocento  had 
confined  themselves  to  the  representation  of  the 
material  world  ;  their  art,  to  use  a  definition  of 
Leo  Battista  Alberti's,  was  a  reproduction  of  "  cose 
vedute " — things  seen  and  visible.  The  art  of 
Botticelli,  however,  has  nothing  in  common  with 
the  epic  and  descriptive  style  of  the  other  Floren- 
tines. The  portrayal  of  the  external  world  is  never 
with  him  an  object  in  itself ;  on  the  contrary  it  is 
his  wealth  of  sentiment  that  strives  to  find  expres- 
sion in  pictorial  form.  And  with  this  end  in  view 
Botticelli  relied  on  line  as  a  medium  of  expression. 
"  The  term  *  outline,' "  again  to  quote  Alberti, 
"signifies  in  painting  the  containing  lines  of  a 
figure,"  and  in  the  objective  painting  of  the 
Florentine  masters  no  other  significance  attached 
to  line.  But  Botticelli's  outline  is  far  more  than  a 
mere  boundary-line ;  like  a  melody  it  conveys  the 
expression  of  his  spiritual  individuality,  freed  from 
all  physical  trammels.  We  feel  it  not  as  the  mere 
"  containing  line  of  a  figure,"  but  as  something 
non-material,  as  a  mirror  of  the  workings  of  his 


22 


BOTTICELLI 


very  soul.  Melancholy,  depression  of  spirit,  the 
mystic  awe  begotten  of  religious  ecstasy,  and  every 
similar  shade  of  feeling,  however  elusive,  found  in 
Botticelli's  line  clear  and  definite  expression.  Sandro 
strove  to  enhance  by  all  possible  means  the  capa- 
bilities of  expression  inherent  in  line.  He  avoided 
all  that  was  heavy  and  massive.  His  favourite 
models  were  found  in  forms  of  extreme  slenderness, 
glowing  as  it  were  with  the  illumination  of  the  soul 
within  them.  He  preferred  soft,  clinging  draperies, 
with  the  texture  of  spiders'  webs,  which  neither 
cumber  the  body,  nor  rob  it  of  its  freedom  of 
motion  ;  for  beyond  all  he  loved  movement  for  its 
own  sake. 

Nevertheless  Botticelli  never  possessed  that  pure 
joy  in  gesticulation  peculiar  to  the  artists  of  the 
Cinquecento.  The  slightest  gesture  of  his  figures 
arises,  just  as  much  as  those  convulsions  which  bow 
or  distort  the  entire  frame,  from  some  spiritual 
necessity  ;  all  reflects  that  restless  inner  conscious- 
ness which  no  Florentine  artist  before  Botticelli  had 
ever  succeeded  in  expressing  within  the  limitations 
of  a  picture.  In  all  cases  where  he  has  been 
prevented  from  following  his  temperament,  where, 
as  in  the  case  of  important  altar-pieces,  he  has  had 
to  abstain  from  the  expression  of  motion,  or  where 


BOTTICELLI 


23 


he  has  been  unable  to  give  adequate  expression  to 
his  feelings,  his  art  appears  empty  and  tedious.  The 
language  of  convention  had  no  message  for  Sandro 
Botticelli. 

In  spite  of  this,  Sandro's  large  religious  paintings 
present  an  abundance  of  novel  and  captivating 
features.  His  feeling  for  the  tone-values  of  costly 
ornaments  and  luminous  flowers,  his  capacity  for 
conveying  impressions  that  are  now  solemnly 
religious  in  character,  now  visionary  and  dreamily 
remote — all  these  qualities  must  be  admired  in 
detail.  For  the  means  he  employs  he  has  recourse 
on  the  one  hand  to  the  most  distant  past,  and  on  the 
other  seems  to  anticipate  many  masters  of  a  remote 
and  yet  remoter  future.  We  possess  only  four 
extensive  altar-pieces  from  Botticelli's  own  hand, 
but  each  bears  the  stamp  of  the  great  master  of 
tone,  or  at  the  least  of  the  religious  painter  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  word.  An  early  Sante  Con- 
versazione of  the  Florence  Accademia,  unfortunately 
sadly  disfigured  by  retouching,  shows  the  youthful 
Sandro  still  anxiously  following  in  the  footsteps  of 
the  Pollajuoli — "  cose  vedute." 

Totally  different  is  the  effect  of  the  so-called 
Madonna  of  the  Palms^  dating  from  the  year  1485, 
which  found  its  way  from  the  Florentine  Church 


24 


BOTTICELLI 


of  S.  Spirito  into  the  Berlin  Museum.  Here  the 
Virgin  is  seated  upon  a  marble  throne  raised  by  a 
step.  Slightly  in  advance  of  her  stand  John  the 
Baptist  and  John  the  Evangelist.  Botticelli  needed 
to  alter  nothing  in  this  ancient  traditional  scheme 
of  composition  for  Sante  Conversazioni,  and  yet 
the  picture  has  hardly  anything  in  common  with 
any  other  of  the  numerous  Florentine  painters  who 
were  at  that  time  handling  the  same  material. 
Every  colour  seems  to  exhale  perfume,  as  though  we 
wandered  in  Southern  groves.  Palms  and  rushes 
form  a  niche  behind  the  Madonna  ;  branches  of 
myrtle  and  cypress  intertwine  ;  four  baskets  full  of 
roses  stand  upon  the  marble  balustrade  :  bunches  of 
olive  are  seen  in  vases  of  noble  design,  while  from 
the  midst  of  their  dusky  green  beauty  rise  the  tall 
stems  of  snow-white  lilies — and  within  all  this  glory 
the  stainless  virginity  of  Mary  is  enshrined.  Botti- 
celli gives  expression  in  this  painting  to  our  own 
aspirations,  and  yet  he  has  only  drawn  upon  the 
bygone  Gothic  Middle  Ages,  whose  super-sensuous 
hymnology  teemed  with  comparisons  between  Mary 
and  the  flowers.  In  his  picture  Sandro  gave  artistic 
form  to  that  Scholastic  conception  of  the  <£  hortus 
conclusus,"  which  no  Humanist  any  longer  thought 
worthy  even  of  a  jeer  : 


BOTTICELLI 


25 


u  Tu  rosa,  tu  lilium 
Cujus  Dei  Filium 
Carnis  ad  connubium 
Traxit  odor  .  .  ." 

The  other  Florentine  painters  of  the  Quattro- 
centro  strove  to  create  the  illusion  of  the  real, 
Sandro  that  of  the  unreal.  Hence,  like  the  masters 
of  the  Trecento,  he  often  employed  gold  as  a  factor 
in  his  colour-scheme,  and,  wherever  it  is  practicable, 
beams  of  dazzling  radiance  descend  from  Heaven 
upon  the  earth  below. 

"Veni,  Sancte  Spiritus, 
Et  emitte  coelitis 
Lucis  Tuae  radium  .  . 

In  the  great  Coronation  of  the  Virgin  of  the 
Florence  Accademia  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  has 
opened  wide  its  portals,  and  we  perceive  Mary 
seated  in  gilded  state,  while  God  the  Father  sets  the 
crown  upon  her  head.  The  Mater  Dolorosa 
thrills  with  blissful  rapture  ;  jubilant  angels  order 
the  dance  around  their  new  mistress,  casting  roses 
before  her  in  joyous  welcome.  Never  again  did 
Sandro  conceive  a  dance  so  divinely  ethereal,  never 
again  did  he  depict  angels  so  purified  of  all  earthly 
taint.  Striking  indeed  is  the  contrast  between  the 
radiant  golden  glory  of  the  Beyond  and  the  rock- 


26 


BOTTICELLI 


bound  shore  upon  which  the  four  Saints  are  left  to 
mourn.  Even  the  very  solidity  of  the  latter  may 
have  been  intended  by  Sandro  as  a  deliberate  foil  to 
the  buoyant  grace  of  his  angels.  Unfortunately  the 
effect  produced  by  these  figures  is  decidedly  unsatis- 
fying. Whenever  Sandro  was  debarred  from  en- 
dowing his  figures  with  action,  and  when  in  addition 
he  must  needs  clothe  them  in  priestly  array — 
dalmatic,  chasuble,  and  cope — little  resulted  except 
possibly  some  effective  draperies  and  a  few  colour- 
effects.  Sandro's  art  was  powerless  to  breathe  life 
into  a  head  adorned  by  a  mitre  or  a  Cardinal's  hat  ; 
superlatively  as  he  knew  how  to  portray  men  who 
sought  the  face  of  their  God,  mere  dignitaries  of  the 
Church  utterly  failed  to  inspire  his  brush. 

Observe  in  this  connection  that  great  altar-piece  of 
the  Accademia,  in  which  seven  Saints  are  grouped 
about  the  Madonna.  The  dark  purple  of  the 
canopy,  the  dull  gold  of  the  reliefs,  and  the  impres- 
sive architecture  all  combine  to  produce  a  colour- 
effect  never  again  attempted  in  such  decorative 
magnificence  until  the  dawn  of  the  barocco.  The 
cuirass  of  the  Archangel  Michael  is  treated  with 
a  joy  in  the  purely  picturesque  to  which  most 
Italian  painters  of  the  Quattrocento  were  strangers, 
and  the  singularly  cool  beauty  of  a  combination  of 


BOTTICELLI 


27 


colour  such  as  that  presented  by  the  white  glove  of 
S.  Ambrose,  the  blood-red  jewel  upon  it,  and  the 
blue  binding  of  a  book,  will  be  sought  in  vain  at 
any  period  previous  to  the  French  art  of  the  nine- 
teenth century.  The  figure  of  S.  John  is  the  most 
virile  ever  conceived  by  Botticelli  ;  full  of  force,  and 
yet  glowing  through  and  through  with  the  smoul- 
dering fire  of  the  ascetic.  And  yet  this  painting,  in 
which  the  balance  of  the  composition  has  been 
thrown  out  of  its  proper  proportion  by  unintelligent 
patching,  excites  but  a  moderate  enthusiasm. 
Mere  interpretation,  especially  when  expressed  in 
life-size  figures,  was  never  Botticelli's  forte.  Had 
he  been  allowed  to  work  on  a  smaller  scale  in  his 
ritual  pictures,  to  resolve  their  solemn  formality  into 
movement,  then  even  in  this  domain  of  art,  so  un- 
congenial to  the  lyrical  bent  of  his  genius,  he 
might  have  produced  a  work  such  as  that  Adoration 
of  the  Magi  in  the  Uffizi  which,  considered  purely 
with  reference  to  its  drawing  and  colouring,  must 
rank  as  the  high-water  mark  of  Botticelli's  achieve- 
ment. 

During  the  Quattrocento  the  "Adoration  of  the 
Magi  "  was  a  very  favourite  subject  with  Florentine 
painters.  It  afforded  them  great  opportunities  of 
gratifying  their  taste  for  portraiture,  and  of  includ- 


28 


BOTTICELLI 


ing  the  likenesses  of  prominent  citizens  among  the 
retinue  of  the  Kings.  None  of  the  earlier  artists, 
however,  ventured  so  far  in  this  direction  as  Botti- 
celli ;  he  was  the  first  to  replace  the  conventional 
figures  of  the  Wise  Men  by  actual  portraits.  This 
new  departure  is  closely  connected  with  the  story 
of  the  origin  of  Botticelli's  great  picture. 

In  the  year  J  469  the  son  of  Cosimo  de'  Medici, 
the  gouty  Piero,  died,  and  his  sons  Giuliano  and 
the  dashing  Lorenzo  swayed  the  destinies  of  the 
Florentine  Republic.  Both  young  men  were  high- 
minded,  full  of  youthful  vigour,  gracious  to  women  ; 
the  doors  of  their  palace  stood  open  to  every  man  of 
merit.  Poets  and  aesthetic  lovers  of  beauty  though 
they  were,  they  could  none  the  less,  in  case  of 
necessity,  assume  the  role  of  the  cold  and  calcula- 
ting practical  politician,  and  well  did  they  maintain 
the  reputation  of  the  State  beyond  its  borders.  The 
common  folk  adored  them,  and  Lorenzo,  the  elder 
and  to  all  appearance  the  more  energetic,  fostered 
this  affection  with  great  skill.  He  regaled  the 
populace  with  entertainments  of  every  description. 
On  the  one  hand  this  policy  stifled  their  regrets  for 
the  loss  of  their  civil  liberty,  and  on  the  other 
afforded  the  Medici  an  opportunity  of  gratifying 
their  own  aesthetic  tastes,  and  of  transforming  this 


BOTTICELLI 


29 


workaday  world  during  a  brief  span  into  a  beautiful 
land  of  dreams.  When  they  rode  to  the  Piazza  of 
Santa  Croce,  escorted  by  the  flower  of  the  youth- 
ful Florentine  nobility,  there  to  break  a  lance  in 
honour  of  their  liege  ladies,  it  was  Antonio  Polla- 
juolo  who  designed  the  trappings  of  their  steeds. 
Silken  banners,  painted  by  Verrocchio  or  Botticelli, 
fluttered  against  the  blue  sky,  and  the  sonorous 
stanzas  of  the  Medicean  Court  poets  likened  their 
patrons'  mighty  deeds  to  those  of  Scipio  and 
Alexander. 

This  gilded  splendour  did  not,  however,  dazzle 
every  eye.  Many  there  were  who  endured  the 
brothers'  rule  with  rage  and  envy  in  their  hearts, 
and  the  Pazzi,  themselves  the  most  illustrious 
family  of  Florence  after  the  Medici,  pursued  them 
with  irreconcilable  hatred.  They  gain  ed  the 
support  of  the  Pope,  and  determined  to  assassinate 
Lorenzo  and  Giuliano  during  the  celebration  of 
solemn  High  Mass  in  the  Duomoon  Easter  morn- 
ing of  the  year  1478.  But  it  was  the  blood  of  the 
hapless  Giuliano  only  that  flowed  "  from  countless 
wounds "  upon  the  consecrated  floor.  Lorenzo 
fled  by  the  sacristy  door,  called  his  faithful  followers 
to  arms,  and  took  fearful  vengeance  on  his  adver- 
saries. 


30 


BOTTICELLI 


Botticelli's  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  commissioned 
by  a  thoroughgoing  partisan  of  the  Medici,  attests 
the  gratitude  of  a  friend  for  Lorenzo's  marvellous 
escape.  In  this  picture  his  departed  ancestors  and 
his  living  comrades  all  join  with  Lorenzo  in  adora- 
tion of  the  Almighty  protector  ;  hence  Botticelli 
set  before  him  as  his  principal  object  that  which 
had  hitherto  merely  served  to  enhance  the  illusion  of 
reality.  In  fact  it  seems  to  have  been  undertaken 
solely  for  the  sake  of  its  twenty-nine  portraits.  It 
is  true  that  Mary,  Joseph,  and  the  Child — possibly 
following  Leonardo's  precedent  in  his  Adoration  of 
the  year  1478 — no  longer  occupy,  according  to 
long-standing  usage,  a  corner  of  the  composition, 
but  its  exact  centre.  Botticelli,  however,  for  the 
first  and  last  time,  has  not  allotted  the  chief  role  to 
the  Holy  Family.  They  are  hardly  noticed  ;  for 
the  eye  is  involuntarily  arrested  by  the  portrait 
groups  in  the  foreground,  which  display  so  much 
restraint  and  charm  in  their  movement  as  to  have 
compelled  the  admiration  even  of  the  Cinquecento, 
a  period  of  no  small  pretensions  in  such  matters. 
We  remark,  first  of  all,  the  aged  Cosimo  de'  Medici, 
dead  long  before,  a  magnificent  head,  the  personi- 
fication of  a  distinguished  senator,  who  bends  with 
but  a  moderate  degree  of  fervour  to  kiss  the  foot  of 


BOTTICELLI 


31 


the  Child  ;  in  like  manner  some  mighty  vassal 
might  pay  homage  to  his  youthful  sovereign.  His 
two  sons,  likewise  dead,  Piero  and  the  no  less 
handsome  than  dissolute  Giovanni,  kneel  behind 
their  father.  In  the  left-hand  corner  ot  the  imme- 
diate foreground  the  dashing  Lorenzo  stands  with 
his  hand  on  his  sword,  as  though  lost  in  reverie, 
and  the  corresponding  place  on  the  other  side  of  the 
composition,  facing  the  most  illustrious  of  the 
Medici,  and  not  far  from  the  murdered  Giuliano, 
Botticelli  reserved  for  himself.  He  knew  his  own 
value,  and  had  a  keen  appreciation  of  what  was  due 
to  himself.  These  principal  actors  are  supported 
on  either  side  by  their  suite  in  the  character  of 
supernumeraries.  Notable  indeed  was  the  part 
allotted  to  every  one  of  these  personages  upon  Life's 
stage,  in  the  "Teatro  del  mondo "  ;  it  were  an 
engrossing  task  to  identify  them  all,  and,  with 
Botticelli's  picture  as  a  starting-point,  to  sketch  the 
history  of  Medicean  culture. 

Not  alone  the  triumph  of  the  victors,  but  also 
the  ignominy  of  their  vanquished  adversaries  was 
Botticelli  called  upon  to  proclaim  to  the  whole 
world.  He  was  commissioned  to  paint  certain 
members  of  the  Pazzi  family  with  their  adherents, 
after  the  ancient  Tuscan  custom,  in  the  guise  of 


32 


BOTTICELLI 


traitors,  that  is  to  say,  head  downwards,  upon  the 
walls  of  the  Palace  of  the  Podesta.  A  drawing  of 
Leonardo's  in  the  Bonnat  Collection  recalls  the 
memory  of  that  frescoed  monument  of  shame, 
which  Botticelli  himself  was  yet  to  see  demolished, 
assuredly  without  a  pang. 

At  the  present  time  Florence  possesses  but  one 
surviving  specimen  of  his  fresco-painting,  that  S. 
Augustine  which  he  painted  in  the  Church  of 
Ognissanti  for  a  member  of  the  Vespucci  family. 
"  He  succeeded  excellently  in  this  work,"  Vasari 
considered,  "since  the  countenance  of  the  Saint 
reveals  deep  meditation  and  that  extreme  refinement 
of  intellect  peculiar  to  men  of  ability,  who  are 
continually  concerned  with  the  investigation  of 
lofty  and  difficult  problems."  On  the  opposite  wall 
appears  the  single  figure  of  S.  jferome,  painted  there 
in  fresco  by  Domenico  Ghirlandajo,  also  a  commis- 
sion of  one  of  the  Vespucci.  One  glance  at  this 
work  enables  us  to  comprehend  the  characteristic 
temperament  of  Botticelli,  and  also  Vasari's  praise. 
Ghirlandajo's  Jerome,  from  an  artistic  point  of 
view,  is  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  combine  the 
elaborate  detail  of  the  Flemish  masters  with  the 
monumental  character  of  fresco-painting.  And, 
turning  to  the  spiritual  side  of  the  subject,  what  has 


BOTTICELLI 


33 


this  phlegmatic,  matter-of-fact  old  gentleman  in 
common  with  the  lowly  penitent  of  Bethlehem  ? 
Who  would  dream  of  crediting  him  with  the  pathos 
of  the  "  Letters  "  ?  Botticelli's  Saint,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  the  very  personification  of  that  Bishop  of 
Hippo  whom  we  encounter,  so  superbly  alive,  in 
the  pages  of  his  "  Confessions  " — the  man  whose 
soul  was  ravaged  by  spiritual  tempests,  who  knew 
only  too  well  the  tyranny  of  the  passions,  and  kept 
perforce  vigilant  watch  and  ward  against  the  snares 
of  his  own  intellect. 

In  the  presence  of  this  figure,  so  boldly  conceived 
and  broadly  executed,  who  would  give  a  thought  to 
the  sleek  and  complacent  Saints  of  the  Renaissance  ? 
Like  most  of  Botticelli's  Saints,  like  his  S.  John  the 
Evangelist  of  the  {Madonna  of  the  Taints,  or  his 
S.  Eligius  of  the  Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  his  S. 
Augustine  too  is  a  reversion  to  the  type  of  those 
morose  and  gloomy  ascetics  who  figure  in  the  altar- 
pieces  of  the  Trecento.  For  Botticelli  loved  the 
Gothic  painting  so  lightly  esteemed  by  his  own 
times,  and  it  possibly  created  in  his  mind  the  impres- 
sion of  a  characteristically  Christian  art.  He  has 
even  been  called  the  "  last  of  the  mediaeval  painters." 
But  this  description  fails  in  accuracy.  He  merely 
desired — in  those   days,  at  least — to  purge  that 

c 


34 


BOTTICELLI 


which  was  immortal  in  the  art  of  the  Trecento 
from  all  that  was  merely  transitory  or  incidental  to 
the  period  ;  or,  in  modern  language,  to  breathe  into 
his  own  work  the  living  fragrance  of  a  dead  Past. 
Botticelli's  relations  with  the  Middle  Ages  were 
always  of  a  purely  aesthetic  character,  and  resembled 
that  bond  which  existed,  four  hundred  years  later, 
between  Rossetti  and  Burne  Jones  and  his  own  art. 

In  the  meantime  Botticelli's  name  had  come 
into  prominence  even  beyond  the  Florentine  bor- 
ders. His  native  city  desired  to  entrust  Sandro 
with  the  fresco  decorations  in  the  Sala  d'  Udienza 
of  the  Palazzo  della  Signoria  ;  but  before  this  work 
was  even  commenced,  when  he  had  just  completed 
his  five-and-thirtieth  year,  the  most  flattering  com- 
mission that  could  fall  to  the  lot  of  any  artist  in 
Christendom  summoned  him  to  Rome.  There  Gio- 
vanni de'  Dolci  had  lately  built  for  the  learned  and 
warlike  Franciscan  who  was  then  Pope  Sixtus  IV. 
that  Chapel  which  has  rendered  his  name  immortal. 
Upon  its  decoration  the  greatest  masters  of  Italy 
were  to  lavish  all  the  resources  of  their  art,  and  a 
list  of  painters  which  included  the  names  of 
Ghirlandajo,  Cosimo  Roselli,  and  Pinturicchio,  of 
Signorelli  and  Perugino,  would  have  been  incomplete 
without  that  of  Botticelli. 


BOTTICELLI 


35 


The  task  which  awaited  him  was  as  formidable 
as  it  was  thankless  and  difficult.  In  addition  to 
certain  unimportant  portraits  of  Popes,  he  was  to 
paint  three  important  frescoes,  on  themes  prescribed 
to  him  by  theologians  of  the  Papal  Court,  learned 
in  the  Scriptures.  The  "Temptation  of  Christ" 
and  the  "  Healing  of  the  Leper  "  formed  the  subject 
of  the  first  of  these  frescoes,  and  episodes  from  the 
history  of  Moses  that  of  the  second ;  while  the 
third  was  devoted  to  the  "  Punishment  of  the 
Company  of  Korah,"  and  it  was  stipulated  that  the 
whole  should  be  brought  up  to  date  by  allusions 
drawn  from  contemporary  history.  Sandro  was  to 
glorify  the  Pope  in  his  qualities  of  warrior,  builder, 
and  scholar,  and  at  the  same  time  to  insert  the 
portraits  of  various  Papal  dignitaries  in  favourable 
positions. 

Even  a  greater  than  Sandro  might  well  have 
come  to  grief  over  the  task.  Botticelli  wrestled 
with  this  unpromising  material  to  the  best  of  his 
ability,  but  he  was  wanting  in  the  repose  of  the 
narrator,  and  the  frescoes  suffer  from  many  weak- 
nesses of  composition.  Moses,  for  instance,  appears 
seven  times  in  the  second  fresco.  Nevertheless  the 
eye  is  richly  compensated  for  all  these  defects  by 
the  many  beauties  of  detail.    Sundry  of  the  youths 


3* 


BOTTICELLI 


and  the  women  bearing  wood  in  the  first  fresco 
count  among  Sandro's  finest  conceptions.  The 
epic  tone  of  the  second  is  relieved  by  enchanting 
lyrical  passages.  In  the  third  the  glowing  dramatic 
spirit  at  last  finds  an  outlet,  and  Botticelli's  Moses, 
full  of  that  majesty  with  which  God  Himself  had 
invested  him,  stretching  forth  his  right  hand  to  call 
down  destruction  upon  Korah  and  his  company,  is 
only  excelled  by  that  of  Michelangelo. 

But  even  in  Rome  Botticelli  remained  faithful  to 
his  natural  temperament.  None  but  he  could  have 
devised,  in  addition  to  the  three  Temptations  of 
Christ,  the  parting  of  the  Saviour  and  the  Angels 
as  a  fourth ;  while  in  the  fresco  depicting  the  His- 
tory of  Moses  it  is  neither  the  exodus  of  the 
Children  of  Israel  nor  the  apparition  of  the  Lord 
in  the  Burning  Bush  that  occupies  the  greatest 
space ;  it  is  the  scene  with  the  daughters  of  Jethro 
at  the  Well  that  Sandro  has  made  the  central  point 
of  the  whole  composition.  "But  Moses  stood  up 
and  helped  them,  and  watered  their  flock."  These 
few  lines  from  Exodus  sufficed  to  inspire  Sandro 
with  that  idyll  whose  lofty  simplicity  can  only  be 
conveyed  by  the  word  "Biblical."  Creatures  of 
haze  and  sunshine  are  these  golden-haired  maidens 
in  their  strangely  weird  and  melancholy  beauty, 


BOTTICELLI 


37 


children  as  it  were  of  some  land  of  flowers.  For 
such  this  mortal  world  were  cold  and  drear  indeed. 
It  is  in  the  contemplation  of  forms  of  loveliness 
like  these  that  we  grasp  the  personal  and  individual 
character  of  Botticelli's  art.  In  subjects  such  as 
these  he  owed  nothing  to  those  who  went  before 
him,  and  towers  above  those  who  came  after  him. 
As  Hamlet  remarks  of  Laertes,  his  spiritual  endow- 
ment was  so  rich  and  rare  that  naught  but  his 
mirror  could  yield  a  resemblance  to  himself. 


Ill 


POPE  SIXTUS,  according  to  Vasari,  showed 
his  appreciation  of  Botticelli's  work  by- 
lavishing  large  sums  of  money  upon  the 
artist ;  but  the  latter  a  according  to  his  custom, 
dissipated  it  all  in  reckless  extravagance  even  be- 
fore the  conclusion  of  his  Roman  visit,  and  as  soon 
as  he  had  completed  his  commissions,  returned 
forthwith  to  Florence." 

Here  he  quickly  had  occasion  to  show  himself 
once  more  a  master  of  fresco.  It  now  became  his 
task  to  glorify  the  marriage  of  Lorenzo  Tornabuoni 
with  the  beautiful  Giovanna  degli  Albizzi.  In  one 
fresco  the  young  Lorenzo  is  introduced  to  the  circle 
of  the  seven  Liberal  Arts.  With  a  countenance  full 
of  noble  modesty  he  gazes  upon  the  wise  sisters, 
while  Dialectics,  leading  him  by  the  hand,  presents 
him  to  Philosophy,  a  staid  and  sober  matron.  In 
the  other  fresco  the  four  Cardinal  Virtues  greet 
Giovanna  degli  Albizzi.  Here  Botticelli  draws  an 
exquisitely  delicate  distinction.  The  Arts,  calm 
38 


BOTTICELLI 


39 


and  inquisitorial,  await  the  approach  of  the  youth, 
whose  part  is  that  of  a  suppliant  for  their  favour, 
but  the  Virtues  advance  to  meet  Giovanna,  as  four 
sisters  might  hasten  to  embrace  a  fifth  returning 
after  long  absence.  In  our  day  a  staircase  in  the 
Louvre  affords  shelter  to  these  half-obliterated 
frescoes;  once  upon  a  time  they  adorned  Chiasso 
Macerelli,  a  villa  of  the  Tornabuoni  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Fiesole  hills,  and  here,  among  the 
cypresses  and  wild  roses  of  that  still  and  sun-bathed 
solitude,  their  ethereal  poetry  must  have  exercised 
an  infinite  charm  upon  the  beholders. 

Giovanna's  garment  of  red  flows  in  severe  and 
unbroken  lines  the  length  of  her  tall  figure.  The 
slender  maidens  who  personify  the  Virtues  are  clad 
in  orange,  white,  yellow,  and  green  draperies,  and 
their  appearance  recalls  the  remark  of  Alberti  in 
his  "  Treatise  on  Painting  "  :  "  It  were  well  for  one 
desiring  to  paint  Diana  leading  her  band  of  nymphs, 
to  clothe  one  nymph  in  green,  a  second  in  white,  a 
third  in  rose,  and  a  fourth  in  yellow,  so  that  every 
nymph  may  be  arrayed  in  a  different  colour." 
Leone  Battista  Alberti,  the  great  theorist  of  the  Early 
Renaissance,  completed  his  "Treatise  on  Painting" 
as  early  as  the  year  1435,  but  Botticelli,  who  came 
into  the  world  full  eleven  years  later,  was  the 


40 


BOTTICELLI 


first  painter  to  utilise  his  suggestions.  That  he 
generally  did  so  is  fully  in  accordance  with  his 
unique  position  in  Florentine  painting.  The 
imitation  of  the  real,  which  represented  to  others 
the  end  and  aim  of  all  art,  with  Botticelli  was  only 
a  means ;  for  he  believed  with  Alberti  that  an 
artist  "should  represent  that  which  affords  the 
mind  food  for  thought,  not  merely  that  which  is 
visible  to  the  eye." 

Sandro  possessed  the  most  exquisite  sense  of 
form  and  feeling  for  colour  values  ;  he  was  richly 
endowed  with  creative  imagination,  and  all  these 
artistic  qualities  went  together  with  a  certain 
sterile  scholasticism  to  form  a  no  less  captivating 
than  complicated  combination.  He  was  a  letterato, 
and  had  all  the  respect  of  the  half-educated  for  the 
written  and  printed  letter,  and  only  his  artistic 
genius  saved  him  from  becoming  the  first 
academic  painter,  and  the  founder  of  a  traditional 
school  of  painting.  It  is  easy  to  understand  the 
precise  influences  which  inspired  Botticelli's  mind 
with  such  tendencies.  In  Lorenzo  de'  Medici's 
hospitable  palace,  where  he  was  received  on  the 
footing  of  a  friend,  he  encountered  poets  and 
scholars,  and  these  high  personages  thus  conversing 
on  equal  terms  with  the  painter,  their  social  in- 


BOTTICELLI 


4i 


ferior,  opened  up  to  him  fresh  paths  in  bygone 
worlds,  galvanised  into  new  life  by  the  magic  of 
their  language,  and  thereby  endowed  his  art  with 
many  new  themes. 

For  his  religious  compositions — to  Vasari  he  had 
already  become  a  "  persona  sofistica  " — Botticelli 
dons  the  gown  of  the  mediaeval  scholar.  He  paints 
the  Virgin's  "  hortus  conclusus,"  and  in  another 
picture  from  his  studio,  in  the  Berlin  Gallery,  the 
Seven  Spirits  of  God  from  the  T)ivina  Commedia 
appear  as  angels  bearing  candelabra.  Again  drawing 
on  Dante  for  his  material  he  designs  a  scene  of 
celestial  glory  ;  in  the  same  picture  he  adopts  the 
learned  suggestionsof  MatteoPalmieri,and  Sixtus  IV. 
well  knew  the  precise  reason  that  induced  him  to 
entrust  to  Botticelli  the  fresco  of  the  Purification  of 
the  Leper  ;  no  other  painter  could  have  expressed 
in  terms  of  art  a  theological  disquisition  on  the 
atoning  properties  of  blood.  Even  in  externals  and 
trifling  details  Sandro's  leanings  toward  scholarship 
may  be  detected.  He  carves  Dante's  verses  on 
marble  thrones  ;  wherever  possible,  he  introduces 
into  his  pictures  open  books,  rolls  of  manuscript, 
and  inkstands.  In  the  Berlin  Madonna  of  the 
Palms  the  olive  branches  in  the  vases  are  tied,  not 
with  cords,  but  with  ribands  bearing  Latin  mottoes. 


42 


BOTTICELLI 


Jewels  of  impossible  dimensions  adorn  the  gloves 
and  mitres  of  his  bishops,  and  it  is  very  possible 
that  a  reference  to  some  "  Liber  gemmarum  "  might 
reveal,  on  the  authority  of  mediaeval  symbolism,  a 
mystic  connection  between  these  gems  and  the 
spiritual  nature  of  their  wearers. 

It  was  this  scholasticism  of  his,  too,  that  deter- 
mined Botticelli's  characteristic  attitude  toward  the 
antique.  His  contemporaries,  the  Pollajuoli, 
Ghirlandajo  and  his  pupils,  filled  their  compositions 
with  reproductions,  more  or  less  free,  of  ancient 
buildings.  This  was,  as  a  rule,  by  no  means 
Botticelli's  idea.  True  that  in  the  fresco  represent- 
ing the  Destruction  of  the  Company  of  Korah,  the 
Arch  of  Constantine  occupies  the  centre  of  the 
scene  ;  but  the  Latin  inscription  borne  by  its 
facade,  "  Nemo  sibi  assumat  honorem  nisi  vocatus  a 
Deo  tanquam  Aron,"  tones  down  this  anachronism 
and  establishes  the  connection  between  the  ancient 
Roman  edifice  and  the  Old  Testament  story  of  the 
fresco. 

Sandro  was  never  a  slavish  copyist  of  the  antique, 
although  it  exercised  a  far-reaching  influence  upon 
his  art  ;  Leo  Battista  Alberti's  treatise  was  his  sole 
mentor  and  guide  in  the  direction  of  the  arts  of  the 
ancients.     We  read  in  this  aesthetic   gospel  of 


BOTTICELLI 


43 


Sandro's  :  "  Pleasing  it  is  to  behold  in  the  hair  of 
men  and  of  animals,  in  branches,  in  foliage,  and  in 
draperies  a  certain  movement,"  and  for  such 
c<  movement "  in  the  representation  of  hair,  and 
more  especially  of  draperies — but  only  in  this 
connection — the  reliefs  on  later  Roman  sarcophagi 
served  him  as  models.  Yet  Sandro,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  ever  preserved  his  independent  atti- 
tude toward  the  antique.  This  is  very  clearly 
shown  by  an  ideal  female  portrait  in  the  Staedel 
Institute  at  Frankfort.  Here  Sandro  modified  the 
individuality  of  his  model's  features  into  harmony 
with  the  severe  regularity  of  a  classical  gem,  and  by 
means  of  bands,  heron's  plumes,  and  interwoven 
pearls  imparted  to  the  blonde  hair,  which  escapes 
from  its  plaits  to  ripple  loosely  over  the  cheeks,  that 
"  movement  "  so  desired  by  Alberti. 

A  typical  example,  affording  an  even  better  illus- 
tration of  Botticelli's  characteristic  style,  is  that 
long-lost  Pallas  subduing  a  Centaur  which  now 
adorns  a  chamber  in  the  Pitti  Palace.  This  com- 
position, too,  glorifies  the  suppression  of  the  Pazzi, 
and  is  significant  of  the  purely  aesthetic  attitude  of 
Medicean  society  both  to  Christianity  and  to 
Paganism.  The  same  Botticelli  celebrated  the 
escape  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  both  in  a  Christian 


44 


BOTTICELLI 


votive  picture,  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  and  in  a 
classical  allegory,  this  very  Pallas  with  the  Centaur. 
The  latter  painting  is  full  of  symbolism.  The 
Centaur,  whom  Pallas  subdues  with  her  right  hand 
twisted  into  his  hair,  had  been  since  the  time  of 
Dante  an  emblem  of  discord.  In  her  left  the 
Goddess  holds  a  halberd  and  an  olive-branch,  the 
latter  of  which  twines  in  single  lines  of  beauty 
about  her  draperies.  Hereby  Power  and  Peace  are 
symbolised  ;  in  the  union  of  these  qualities  lies  the 
secret  of  beneficent  government,  and  only  the 
Medici  can  confer  this  blessing  upon  the  City  by 
the  Arno.  In  order  to  convey  this  idea  the  robe 
of  the  Olympian  divinity  bears  a  pattern  of  three 
rings  intertwined,  a  device  of  Lorenzo's.  This  all 
sounds  pedantic  and  high-flown  ;  but  Botticelli  was 
an  artist  to  whose  inner  consciousness  everything 
appealed  that  he  created,  even  a  political  allegory. 
He  was  a  painter,  and  that  implies  that  every  inch 
of  his  canvas,  long  before  it  acquires  a  symbolical 
meaning,  has  been  endowed  with  a  definite  palp- 
able significance  ;  everything,  before  it  became  an 
allegory,  has  been  thought  out  from  the  point  of 
view  of  form  and  colour.  Thus  we  can  always 
admire  the  pathos  of  the  Centaur,  and  the  charm- 
ing effect  of  the  Goddess's  white  hand  among  the 


BOTTICELLI 


45 


dark  hair  of  the  monster  ;  likewise  we  may  well  be 
enthralled  by  the  melancholy  beauty  of  the  Pallas, 
without  possessing  even  the  rudiments  of  literary 
or  historical  culture. 

No  less  true  is  this  in  the  case  of  that  most 
glorious  of  Botticelli's  allegories,  the  Spring  in  the 
Florence  Accademia.  In  a  grove  remote  from  the 
haunts  of  men  Spring  is  stirring,  and  a  thousand 
gaily  tinted  flowers  raise  their  heads  above  the  soil. 
Graces  veiled  in  gold-embroidered  draperies  join 
hands  in  the  mazes  of  the  dance.  A  flower-decked 
nymph  picks  her  dainty  way  through  all  this  vernal 
beauty,  where  even  the  restless  Hermes  seems 
content  to  linger.  Cupid  flits  through  the  air  like 
a  butterfly  above  his  mother's  head,  and  Venus 
gazes  with  a  musing  smile  upon  her  eternal  realm 
.  .  .  "  ridegli  intorno  tutta  la  foresta." 

All  who  have  ever  marked  its  lovely  details  of 
form  and  colour,  blending  into  poetic  harmony, 
may  well  have  admired  in  this  picture  the  poet 
turned  painter,  the  painter  turned  poet  ;  but  it  will 
have  occurred  to  few  to  question  themselves  as  to 
what  is  its  precise  meaning.  And  yet  whole  books 
and  treatises  have  been  written  on  the  subject,  even 
in  quite  recent  times  feuds  have  been  carried  on, 
and  the  gates  of  Aphrodite's  realm  are  besieged  by 


46 


BOTTICELLI 


squabbling  scholars  endeavouring  to  prove  to  us  by 
means  of  quotations  from  Ovid  and  Horace,  Alberti 
and  Politian,  by  references  to  the  reverse  of  medals 
and  Milanese  woodcuts,  the  real  significance  of  a 
picture  which  to  every  lay  mind  itself  proclaims  its 
own  interpretation.  The  whole  composition  and 
its  varied  details  are  equally  popular  as  subjects  of 
dispute.  Attempts  have  been  made  to  connect  the 
origin  of  the  picture  with  some  event  in  contem- 
porary Florentine  history,  but  uncertainty  prevails 
as  to  whether  it  is  the  death  of  the  beautiful  Simon- 
etta  Vespucci,  the  Muse  of  Medicean  society,  or 
the  marriage  of  Lorenzo  Tornabuoni  that  is  here 
allegorically  treated.  It  has  been  very  shrewdly 
and  convincingly  proved  that  Sandro  was  indebted 
for  many  suggestions  to  the  brilliant  stanzas  of 
Angelo  Poliziano's  "  Giostra  "  ;  Alberti  may  have 
prompted  him  to  portray  the  Graces  "  smiling, 
arrayed  in  ungirded  and  transparent  garments, 
holding  one  another  by  the  hand  99  ;  but  those  who 
seek  to  "  justify  "  the  presence  of  Hermes  in  the 
realm  of  Venus  by  a  reference  to  an  Horatian  Ode 
to  the  Goddess,  in  which  occurs  the  line  "  Love  and 
Hermes  are  thy  guides,"  prove  only  too  conclu- 
sively that  they  have  failed  to  understand  a  great 
artist.     Was  Botticelli  compelled,  before  intro- 


BOTTICELLI 


47 


during  even  a  youthful  divinity  into  the  realm  of 
Venus,  to  obtain  first  of  all  the  sanction  of  some 
duly  authenticated  classical  quotation,  and  is  it  not 
possible  to  explain  on  purely  artistic  grounds  his 
choice  of  this  figure,  to  which  such  widely  varying 
interpretations  have  been  attached  ? 

Possibly  these  female  figures,  deprived  of  their 
contrast  with  a  masculine  pose,  might  have  lost 
much  of  their  impressive  effect.  And  how  could 
that  movement  which  passes  in  a  gradual  diminuendo 
from  right  to  left  of  the  picture  strike  a  nobler  note 
than  in  the  line  of  the  erect  figure  of  the  youthful 
Hermes  ?  Can  it  be  seriously  maintained  that  a 
combination  of  illustrations  from  five  or  six  differ- 
ent authors  could  ever  have  been  blended  into  a 
composition  of  such  imperishable  harmony. 

Strongly  akin  in  sentiment  to  the  Spring — for 
which  "The  Realm  of  Venus"  were  a  more  appro- 
priate title — is  the  'Birth  of  Venm  in  the  Uffizi, 
belonging  to  the  same  Medicean  type.  In  Vasari's 
time  the  two  pictures  adorned  one  room,  and  this 
masterly  painting,  although  there  is  a  slight  differ- 
ence between  them  in  height,  was  doubtless  in- 
tended by  Botticelli  as  a  pendant  to  the  Spring. 
Roses  float  through  the  lambent  air,  and  Wind-gods 
waft  the  Anadyomene,  who  stands  upright  in  a 


48 


BOTTICELLI 


white  shell,  over  the  blue-green  sea  toward  the  shore. 
A  golden-haired  nymph,  clad  in  a  flowery  vesture,  is 
waiting  to  veil  the  gleaming  nudity  of  her  mistress 
with  the  royal  mantle.  In  the  Spring,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  sovereign  makes  queenly  progress  through 
her  realm  ;  Flora  seeks  in  vain  to  flee  the  tumul- 
tuous ardours  of  Zephyr  ;  the  virgin  Graces  twine  in 
sober  wistfulness  the  circling  dance ;  the  quickening 
sap  and  all  the  powers  of  Spring  awake  to  life 
— "  Love  and  Spring  are  one." 

Suggestions  derived  from  Politian  and  Alberti 
may  again  be  detected  in  this  Birth  of  Venus,  but 
Sandro  retained  nevertheless  his  artistic  liberty. 
For  example,  to  quote  a  pregnant  instance,  Politian's 
Venus,  following  Homer's  "  Hymn  to  Aphrodite," 
is  received  by  three  nymphs  ;  Botticelli  painted  but 
one,  and  perhaps  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  excuse 
Sandro's  omission,  as  one  well-meaning  art  critic 
has  done,  as  an  "  oversight  "  ! 

To  this  culminating  period  of  Botticelli's  crea- 
tive powers  we  also  owe  that  marvellous  idyll  of 
Mars  and  Ven%is  in  the  National  Gallery.  Once 
more  we  catch  faint  echoes  of  many  a  rhyme  from 
the  "  Giostra,"  but  this  painting  will  inspire  no  be- 
holder with  reminiscences  of  Homeric  verse  ;  the 
Hellenic  Gods  laugh  loudly,  but  Sandro's  Olympian 


BOTTICELLI 


49 


divinities  barely  curve  their  lips  in  a  dreamy  smile. 
Around  the  sleeping  God  of  War — the  finest  mas- 
culine pose  that  Botticelli  ever  drew — youthful 
goat-legged  satyrs  play  wild  but  graceful  pranks 
with  the  weapons  of  the  Lord  of  Battles.  But  the 
countenance  of  the  God,  drawn  by  pain,  presents  a 
strange  contrast  to  their  gambols,  and  Aphrodite, 
who  gazes  from  her  gold-embroidered  cushion  with 
smiling  gravity  upon  her  sleeping  lover,  is  fair 
indeed  to  look  upon,  but  not,  like  her  Homeric 
sister,  "  of  an  indomitable  heart."  Sandro  has  not 
endowed  his  Venus  with  that  antique  sensuousness 
which  is  inseparable  from  healthy  and  vigorous 
beauty  ;  neither  has  she  anything  in  common  with 
the  vampire-like  "Lady  Venus"  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Sandro  approaches  Olympus  in  the  reverent 
spirit  of  an  admirer  of  the  antique  :  to  him  even 
the  dethroned  Aphrodite  remains  ever  a  sublime 
divinity.  She  resembles  Mary  of  Nazareth,  and 
the  sight  of  a  halo  encircling  her  head  would  strike 
no  one  with  a  sense  of  incongruity. 

Sandro  created  in  his  Venus  the  chastest  of  all  nude 
female  figures,  but  the  "  simple  old  Master  "  knew 
well  that  there  were  other  types  of  women,  dia- 
bolical in  their  unholy  fascination,  the  negation  of 
every  quality  but  that  of  sex.    Consider  the  Salome 

D 


So 


BOTTICELLI 


of  the  Accademia,  with  ruddy  locks,  lickerish  eyes, 
and  lips  that  tremble  with  wanton  appetites. 
There  is  no  slightest  link  between  antique  art  and 
this  small  and  unfortunately  neglected  predella. 
Botticelli's  Salome  is  not  the  "  damsel "  of  the 
Bible ;  she  has  no  single  feature  in  common  with 
the  ecclesiastical  severity  of  Giotto's  princess,  or 
with  the  joyous  young  dancer  of  Filippo  Lippi. 
It  was  with  the  far  distant  future  that  this  Salome 
was  destined  to  claim  kinship — with  the  perverted 
eroticism  of  Oscar  Wilde  and  Aubrey  Beardsley. 
In  another  predella  we  are  shown  how  temptation 
assails  S.  Eligius  ;  but  here  the  horns  which  shine 
with  a  metallic  gleam  amid  her  golden  hair  betray 
the  diabolical  origin  of  the  enchantress.  Her 
laughing  eyes  and  lascivious  ruby  lips  will  never 
seduce  the  man  of  God,  for  he  knows  that  "  mulier 
est  confusio  hominis,  bestia  insanabilis  .  %  .  foetens 
rosa,  tristis  paradisus,  dulce  venenum."  * 

When  Botticelli  painted  his  ^irth  of  Venus  he 
may  possibly  have  intended  as  it  were  to  create 
anew  a  picture  of  Apelles  much  esteemed  by  the 
ancients.  His  Calumny  of  Apelles  in  the  Uffizi 
reveals  quite  clearly  this  aspiration  toward  the  re- 

*  "  Woman  is  man's  bane,  irredeemably  bestial  .  .  . 
a  stinking  rose,  a  dreary  paradise,  a  sweet  poison." 


BOTTICELLI  51 


construction  of  a  lost  masterpiece.  Lucian  in  his 
"  Dialogues  on  Calumny"  gave  a  precise  descrip- 
tion of  the  picture  of  Apelles.  Alberti  quoted  this 
account  in  his  "Treatise  on  Painting,"  and  obviously 
it  was  hence  that  it  became  known  to  Botticelli. 
Here,  where  it  was  treated  from  the  point  of  view 
of  its  artistic  design,  Sandro  followed  with  close 
attention  the  words  of  Lucian  as  given  by  Alberti. 
Let  us  compare. 

"  The  picture  represented  a  man  with  very  large 
ears,  at  whose  side  two  women  were  standing,  one 
named  Ignorance  and  the  other  Suspicion.  Then 
came  Calumny.  This  was  a  woman  fair  to  look 
upon,  but  her  countenance  was  marred  by  exces- 
sive cunning  ;  her  right  hand  held  a  blazing  torch, 
and  with  the  left  she  dragged  by  his  hair  a  youth 
who  stretched  out  his  hands  to  Heaven  in  supplica- 
tion. Then  there  was  a  man,  pale  of  countenance, 
hideous  and  foul,  repulsive  to  behold  ;  this  man  was 
the  conductor  and  guide  of  Calumny,  and  he  was 
called  Envy.  Other  two  women  were  decking 
Calumny  with  ornaments  ;  Cunning  and  Deceit 
were  their  names.  These  were  followed  by 
Remorse,  a  woman  clad  in  mourning,  tearing  her 
own  flesh.  Last  of  all  came  a  maiden,  bashful  and 
timid — Truth."    In  this  figure  alone  did  Botticelli 


52 


BOTTICELLI 


make  any  change,  and  then  certainly  to  the  advant- 
age of  the  picture  ;  he  has  represented  Truth  as  a 
woman  undraped,  raising  her  right  hand  as  though 
in  accusation  and  appeal  to  the  eternal  Gods. 

As  a  setting  for  this  classical  scene  Sandro 
designed  a  Renaissance  hall  flooded  with  sunlight, 
with  gilded  niches  in  which  stand  statues  unusually 
plastic  in  their  conception,  several  of  which  are 
direct  copies  of  subjects  treated  by  Castagno  and 
Donatello.  Vasari  commends  this  painting  in 
brief  but  inspired  terms,  but  is  it  certain  that 
Leone  Battista  Alberti  would  have  equally  nodded 
approval  to  his  disciple  ?  "  All  movement,"  we  may 
read  in  the  "Treatise  on  Painting,"  "and  I  insist 
ever  anew  upon  this,  should  be  measured  and  gentle. 
.  .  .  For  violent  gestures  not  only  deprive  paint- 
ing of  all  its  grace  and  sweetness,  but  also  cause  the 
spirit  of  the  artist  to  appear  over-boisterous  and 
ardent."  And  in  Sandro's  picture  every  single 
figure  is  a-quiver  with  inward  tumult,  which  mani- 
fests itself  outwardly  in  violent  gestures. 

Botticelli  well  knew  this  precept  of  Alberti's, 
and  had  faithfully  observed  it  during  many  years. 
But  the  days  when  the  wishes  of  the  aesthetic 
fraternity  were  laws  to  Sandro  lay  far  behind  him. 
During  the  very  period  in  which  he  was  painting 


BOTTICELLI 


53 


the  Calumny  his  spirit  reached  the  decisive  phase  of 
its  transformation.  The  Medicean  Sandro — he  who 
willed  only  to  create  perfect  works  of  art,  and  to 
disinter  with  his  sensitive  fingers  the  treasure  of  a 
dead  culture — died,  and  in  his  stead  we  now  behold 
a  creature  weighed  down  by  the  consciousness  of 
sin,  whose  pictures  are  no  longer  "  beautiful,"  but 
glow  with  religious  fervour,  and  who  seems  to  have 
dipped  his  brush  in  his  own  heart's  blood. 

The  man  who  thus  brought  light  into  the  soul  of 
Botticelli,  and  reclaimed  him  for  the  Christian 
faith,  was  named  Girolamo  Savonarola. 


IV 


THE  people  of  Florence — even  in  the  days  of 
the  Renaissance — had  always  been  religious, 
or,  in  the  language  of  Vespasiano  da  Bis- 
ticci,  "addicted  to  the  way  of  truth. "  Long  before 
the  advent  of  Savonarola,  Fra  Bernardino  da  Massa 
erected  in  the  Piazza  Santa  Croce  a  funeral  pyre, 
for  the  burning  of  a  women's  false  hair,  toys,  and 
other  vain  things."  The  Medici  themselves  were 
members  of  religious  confraternities,  and  the  sorrows 
and  humility  of  Christ  afforded  even  the  frivolous 
Politian  opportunities  for  the  display  of  his  polished 
Latin  style. 

In  very  truth,  however,  the  relations  between 
the  Deity  and  his  servants  and  those  friends  of 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici  who  foregathered  at  the  Palazzo 
of  the  Via  Largo  and  in  the  groves  of  Careggi, 
were  of  an  extremely  superficial  character.  The 
function  of  the  preacher  was  the  same  to  them  as 
that  of  the  rhetorician  to  the  men  of  old,  or  that  of 
the  actor  to  those  of  our  own  time.  The  matter 
54 


BOTTICELLI 


55 


of  his  discourse  counted  for  naught ;  the  manner 
was  everything.  Whether  the  man  in  the  pulpit 
himself  believed  in  the  doctrine  he  preached,  no  one 
either  asked  or  cared.  Angelo  Poliziano  in  one 
passage  passes  this  supremely  characteristic  comment 
on  the  impression  produced  upon  him  by  a  sermon 
of  Fra  Mariano  da  Genazzano  :  "  I  am  all  ears 
[tutto  orecchi]  for  the  melodious  delivery,  the  well- 
chosen  words,  and  sonorous  periods.  I  distinguish 
the  pauses,  the  construction  of  the  sentences,  and 
am  enthralled  by  harmonious  cadences. "  Savonarola 
despised  the  charlatanry  of  such  virtuosi  of  the 
pulpit.  "Elegance  and  all  flowers  of  discourse," 
he  once  declared,  "  must  be  relegated  to  the  back- 
ground, if  one  is  to  preach  the  simple  gospel  of 
salvation."  Even  Botticelli  may  well  have  attended 
Savonarola's  first  sermon  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
admiring  resounding  periods  or  elegant  gestures, 
and  found  instead  a  monk — who  believed.  Lorenzo 
de'  Medici  was  surrounded  by  men  of  universal 
accomplishments — brilliant  artists  in  speech,  skilled 
and  tasteful  actors  of  emotions  and  sentiments — 
but  their  soul  had  no  share  in  the  workings  of  their 
intellect. 

Savonarola's  words  burned  with  righteous  con- 
viction ;  hence  their  power  to  convince.     It  was 


56 


BOTTICELLI 


because  he  himself  believed  that  he  was  enabled  to 
kindle  belief  in  the  minds  of  others.  But  to  imagine 
that  Sandro,  the  artist,  should  ever  have  become  so 
fervent  a  disciple  of  that  priest  who  regarded  all  art 
solely  as  the  handmaiden  of  faith !  There  is  in  the 
soul  of  every  artist  an  abiding  capacity  for  hero- 
worship  ;  he  is  an  ardent  admirer  of  a  great  per- 
sonality— even  though  it  be  devoid  of  sympathy 
with  Art.  Thus  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  furnished 
the  artist  Botticelli  with  a  character-study  whose 
masterful  lines  were  well  qualified  to  compel  his 
veneration  ;  the  magnetism  of  popular  enthusiasm, 
which  persons  of  an  emotional  temperament  rarely 
escape,  was  not  without  its  influence ;  and,  above 
all,  Sandro  Botticelli  suddenly  found  himself  the 
centre  of  a  growing  solitude.  He  had  seen  Lorenzo 
de'  Medici  borne  to  the  tomb,  and  two  years  later, 
in  1494,  Politian  had  followed  his  Maecenas. 
Shortly  afterwards  the  yelling  mob  stormed  the 
Medici  palace,  and  its  owner,  Piero,  Lorenzo's  son, 
was  compelled  amid  ignominy  and  insult  to  fly  the 
city.  But  in  the  pulpit  the  erect  and  powerful 
figure  of  the  Dominican  still  held  sway,  and  when 
he  stretched  forth  the  crucifix  to  the  trembling 
crowd,  thousands  knelt  before  it  sobbing,  "  Miserere, 
Domine  ! " 


BOTTICELLI 


57 


Botticelli,  too,  had  much  to  atone  for.  "  What 
shall  I  say  of  you,  ye  painters,  who  expose  half- 
naked  figures  to  public  view  ? "  stormed  Fra 
Girolamo,  and  Botticelli  well  knew  that  "many 
pictures  of  naked  women"  which  then  "disfigured 
the  houses  of  the  citizens  "  had  first  seen  the  light 
in  his  studio.  "  Not  a  merchant  can  order  a 
wedding,"  Savonarola  thundered  on  another  occa- 
sion, "  but  his  daughter  must  needs  bestow  her 
furbelows  in  a  coffer  painted  with  heathen  fables  ; 
so  that  a  Christian  bride  makes  earlier  acquaintance 
with  the  perfidy  of  Mars  and  the  wiles  of  Vulcan 
than  with  the  deeds  of  the  holy  women  of  either 
Testament."  Now  Sandro  had  in  truth  celebrated 
the  illicit  amours  of  Mars  and  Venus,  and  had  been 
the  first  to  devote  life-size  pictures  to  the  doings  of 
Pagan  Gods.  "  But,"  demanded  Savonarola,  "are 
we  to  preach  Ovid  here,  or  the  Christian  faith  ?" 

So  Botticelli  banished  from  his  abode  the  joyous 
world  of  fable,  decorated  his  "  coffers  for  the  newly 
wedded"  with  the  miracles  of  S.  Zenobius  or  the 
chaste  sacrifice  of  Virginia  or  Lucretia,  and  went 
about  preaching  the  Christian  faith,  no  longer 
according  to  the  precepts  of  Alberti,  but  after  the 
dictates  of  his  own  fervent  spirit.  The  lyric  artist 
whom  we  have  hitherto  known,  the  troubadour 


58 


BOTTICELLI 


whose  lute  was  tuned  to  celestial  love-lays,  now 
arrays  himself  in  the  hair  shirt  of  the  penitent,  and 
proclaims  the  gospel  of  suffering. 

Compare  the  two  renderings  in  the  Uffizi  of  the 
Adoration  of  the  Magi.  One,  the  apotheosis  of 
the  Medici,  was  painted  by  an  artist  for  Art's  sake  ; 
the  other,  now  sadly  damaged,  is  the  work  of  a 
fanatic  who  aimed  at  converting  a  sinful  world  to 
the  true  faith.  As  though  lashed  by  invisible 
scourges,  in  an  ecstasy  of  excitement,  the  people 
surge  from  every  direction  about  the  Son  of  Mary  ; 
kneeling,  prostrating  themselves,  with  burning  and 
rapturous  eyes,  before  the  Christ  Child  ;  waving 
towards  the  hallowed  group  arms  that  tremble  with 
joy  ;  beckoning  one  to  another  in  that  arid  wilder- 
ness of  rocks,  where  the  Redeemer  has  manifested 
himself  to  the  sons  of  men.  Here  speaks  the  voice 
of  Fra  Mariano,  of  Savonarola. 

The  religious  fever  which  had  inflamed  not  only 
Botticelli  but  all  Florence,  died  out  ;  the  political 
adversaries  of  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  gained  the 
upper  hand  and  Botticelli  lived  to  see  Savonarola, 
the  "second  Saviour,"  seal  his  doctrine,  on  the  23rd 
of  May  in  the  year  1498,  with  his  blood.  Sandro 
never  recovered  from  the  shock.  In  the  chronicle 
of  his  brother  Simone  Filipepi  we  read,  under  the 


BOTTICELLI 


59 


date  of  All  Souls'  Day,  1499  :  "  As  we  were  sitting 
round  the  fire  at  three  o'clock  of  the  night  in  my 
house,  my  brother  Sandro  di  Mariano  Filipepi,  one 
of  the  good  painters  who  then  dwelt  in  our  city, 
related  how  he  had  conversed  in  his  workshop  with 
DofFo  Spini  concerning  the  fate  of  Fra  Girolamo. 
And  because  Sandro  knew  that  DofFo  had  been 
among  the  most  zealous  at  his  trial,  he  begged  him 
to  tell  him  in  all  truth  whether  Fra  Girolamo  had 
been  found  guilty  of  any  sin  worthy  of  being 
punished  by  such  a  disgraceful  death.  And  DofFo 
answered  him  :  i  Sandro,  shall  I  tell  thee  the  truth  ? 
We  not  only  found  him  guilty  of  no  mortal  sin,  but 
also  of  none  even  that  was  venial.'  Whereupon 
Sandro  asked,  'Why  then  did  ye  let  him  die  so 
miserable  a  death  ? '  " 

How  faithfully  Sandro  the  disciple  clave  to  the 
memory  of  his  martyred  master  is  shown  by  the 
only  signed  and  dated  painting  of  Botticelli's  now 
extant — that  small,  inefFably  solemn  rendering  of 
the  Nativity  in  the  National  Gallery,  perhaps  the 
last  picture  ever  wrought  by  Sandro's  own  hand. 
Instinct  with  vigorous  movement,  and  yet  at  the 
same  time  full  of  mournful  peace,  of  Christian 
feeling,  and  dark  symbolism,  this  painting  resembles 
rather  a  work  of  his  Medicean  epoch  translated  into 


6o 


BOTTICELLI 


the  form-language  developed  under  the  influence  of 
Savonarola.  High  and  low,  Kings  and  shepherds 
alike  crowned  with  the  olive  wreath  of  peace,  all 
are  conducted  by  angels  to  that  sacred  hovel,  while 
other  celestial  choristers  poised  upon  its  thatched 
roof  raise  the  triumphant  "  Gloria  in  excelsis  !  " 
Above  their  heads  yet  other  angels  bathed  in  a 
golden  radiance  join  hands  in  the  circling  dance. 
But  these  angels  no  longer  float  serenely  through 
the  air,  like  those  whom  Sandro  painted  once  upon 
a  time  with  such  unique  art  in  the  Coronation  of  the 
Virgin  :  rather  might  this  soaring,  whirling  dance 
be  described  as  a  religious  orgy,  the  bacchanalia 
of  faith.  Three  golden  crowns  glitter  in  that 
gleaming  sea  of  light,  destined  to  adorn  the  heads  of 
three  pilgrims  who  are  being  tenderly  embraced  and 
kissed  by  three  angels,  while  crawling  demons  seek 
refuge,  like  moles,  in  the  recesses  of  the  earth.  These 
three  pilgrims  represent  Savonarola  and  the  two 
companions  of  his  martyrdom.  A  Greek  inscrip- 
tion, its  mysterious  tone  in  conscious  harmony  with 
that  of  the  Revelation  of  S.  John,  bears  moving 
witness  to  Sandro's  hope  and  despair  :  "  I,  Ales- 
sandro,  painted  this  picture  at  the  end  of  the  year 
1500,  during  the  disorders  in  Italy,  in  the  half  time 
after  the  time,  according  to  the  eleventh  chapter  of 


BOTTICELLI 


61 


S.  John,  in  the  Second  Woe  of  the  Apocalypse, 
whilst  the  Devil  was  let  loose  for  three  and  a  half 
years,  but  then  shall  he  be  chained  up,  according  to 
the  twelfth  (chapter),  and  we  shall  see  him  trodden 
under  foot,  as  in  this  picture." 

Sandro  had  now  left  far  behind  him  for  ever 
those  days  in  which  he  delighted  in  "  the  perfidy  of 
Mars  and  the  wiles  of  Vulcan."  The  sparkling 
fountain  of  classical  lore  no  longer  had  power  to 
intoxicate  him  ;  in  its  place  he  drew  deep  draughts 
from  a  fresh  spring  of  Christian  beauty — the 
"  Divine  Comedy  "  of  Dante.  Of  those  pen-and- 
ink  drawings  wherewith  he  adorned  a  copy  of  the 
Divina  Commectia  for  Lorenzo  di  Pierfrancesco  de' 
Medici,  ninety-six  remain  to  us  ;  eight  of  these  are 
preserved  in  the  Vatican  Gallery,  and  the  remainder 
are  the  proud  possession  of  the  Berlin  Cabinet  of 
Engravings.  Possibly  Sandro  may  have  commenced 
this  gigantic  undertaking  before  his  visit  to  Rome  ; 
but  it  undoubtedly  covered  a  period  of  many  years, 
probably  including  the  death  of  the  Medici,  while 
the  best  work  of  the  series  dates  from  those  days 
when  the  Faith  had  but  lately  set  its  seal  upon 
Botticelli.  Sandro  devoted,  with  one  single 
exception,  a  drawing  to  each  Canto.  But  the 
superabundance    of  material   overwhelmed  him. 


62 


BOTTICELLI 


The  consecutive  character  of  the  delineation  does 
not  always  adapt  itself  to  the  requirements  of  com- 
position, and  thus  many  of  the  subjects — more 
especially  the  early  illustrations  to  the  Inferno — suffer 
from  their  obscure  and  confused  arrangement.  And 
yet  we  are  forced  to  acknowledge,  reversing  the 
saying  of  Goethe,  that  where  there  are  deep 
shadows,  there  is  also  much  light.  His  drawings 
contain,  as  it  were  in  concentrated  form,  all  the 
excellences  of  his  paintings.  The  overflowing 
riches  of  his  inner  consciousness  find  in  plasticity  of 
form,  animation  of  outline,  and  speaking  gesture 
even  more  direct  expression  in  the  former  than  in 
the  latter.  The  sinister  giants  of  the  Inferno  are 
just  as  convincing  as  the  loveliness  of  his  dancing 
angels  ;  when  Sandro  suggests  the  infinity  of  the 
ether  or  creates  the  effect  of  unfathomable  distance 
in  a  couple  of  lines,  our  Florentine  seems  meta- 
morphosed into  a  Japanese  ;  and  when  at  last,  in 
the  illustrations  to  the  Paradiso,  Dante's  eyes 
reflect  in  turn  the  emotions  of  anguish,  confusion, 
self-abasement,  hope,  and  intense  spiritual  ecstasy — 
art  such  as  this  can  have  but  few  rivals,  if  any. 
f  Botticelli  was  able  to  devote  the  evening  of  his 
life  unhindered  to  his  studies  from  Dante ;  for 
patrons   no   longer   thronged   his   studio.  The 


BOTTICELLI 


63 


Florentines  ever  maintained  a  respectful  attitude 
toward  the  painter  whom  a  Pope  had  honoured  by 
his  commissions.  Occasionally  they  consulted  his 
opinion  in  matters  of  art,  but  Sandro's  own  style 
now  seemed  out  of  date.  His  art  could  not  take 
root  in  the  fertile  soil  of  the  Florentine  people;  it 
resembled  some  aristocratic  exotic  from  Careggi, 
that  grove  of  the  Medici  where  the  artists  were 
scholars  and  the  scholars  artists.  Sandro's  creations 
were  the  materialised  visions  of  those  aesthetes  who 
there  dreamed  under  the  cypresses,  at  the  feet  of 
some  marble  Greek  god,  the  eternal  dream  of  a 
vanished  world  of  beauty.  When  Lorenzo  de* 
Medici  died,  and  his  humanistic  friends  turned 
their  backs  on  the  Florence  of  Savonarola,  Sandro 
lost  all  the  admirers  of  his  art.  Taste,  too,  had 
undergone  a  change.  Botticelli's  works  had  no 
further  message  for  a  generation  that  admired  the 
pompous  poverty  of  conception  which  marks  the 
compositions  of  Fra  Bartolommeo.  The  younger 
painters  swore  by  Michelangelo  ;  and  as  for  the 
Philistines — of  whom  there  was  doubtless  no  lack 
even  during  the  Renaissance — what  could  they  have 
in  common  with  the  tender  poetry  of  the  Spring  or 
the  Magnificat  ? 

And  so  our  Sandro  dragged  out  his  remaining 


64 


BOTTICELLI 


years  in  loneliness  and  poverty,  and  when  he  was 
buried  on  May  17  of  the  year  15 10  in  the  Church 
of  Ognissanti,  many  must  have  been  amazed  to 
hear  that  he  had  lived  until  so  lately.  He  was 
soon  forgotten.  We  seek  in  vain  for  the  faintest 
trace  of  his  spirit  in  the  Florentine  art  of  the  Mid- 
Renaissance  and  the  barocco  periods,  and  even  the 
most  refined  lovers  of  the  rococo  passed  the  works  of 
Sandro  carelessly  by.  It  was  left  for  the  nineteenth 
century  to  discover  the  art  of  Botticelli,  and  to  find 
in  the  yearning  beauty  of  his  pictures  a  reflection 
of  its  own  fairest  dreams. 


LIST  OF  THE  WORKS  OF  SANDRO 
BOTTICELLI 


[Only  works  by  Botticelli's  own  hand  are  in- 
cluded in  this  list.  The  numbers  prefixed  to  titles 
of  pictures  refer  to  the  catalogues  of  the  galleries  to 
which  they  respectively  belong.  The  dates  in 
brackets  are  those  at  which,  so  far  as  can  be  ascer- 
tained, the  works  in  question  were  executed.] 

BERGAMO. 

Morelli  Gallery. 

84.  The  Story  of  Virginia. 

85.  Head  of  Christ. 

BERLIN. 

Royal  Gallery. 

106.    Madonna  and  Saints. 
1 128.    S.  Sebastian. 
Kaujmann  Collection. 

Judith. 

Raczinsky  Collection. 

Madonna  with  Angels.  Tondo. 

E 


66 


BOTTICELLI 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. 
Mrs.  J '.  L.  Gardner's  Collection. 

Death  of  Lucretia. 

Madonna  with  Child  and  Angel. 

(The  "  Chigi  Madonna.") 

DRESDEN. 

Royal  Gallery. 

12.    Scenes  from  the  Life  of  S.  Zenobius. 


FLORENCE. 


Accademia. 

46. 

Sante  Conversazione. 

73  &  74- 

Coronation  of  the  Virgin,  with  Predella. 

80. 

Spring. 

85. 

Madonna  with  Saints  and  Angels. 

157. 

Dead  Christ. 

161. 

Salome. 

158. 

Death  of  S.  Augustine. 

162. 

Vision  of  S.  Augustine. 

(The  four  small  pictures  last  mentioned  form  part  of 
the  same  predella.) 


Uffizi  Gallery. 

39.    Birth  of  Venus. 
1 156.  Judith. 

1 158.    Discovery  of  the  Body  of  Holofernes. 
1 179.    S.  Augustine. 
1182.    Calumny  of  Apelles. 


BOTTICELLI 


6/ 


FLORENCE  {continued). 
1276B.  Madonna  with  Child  and  Angels. 

(The  "  Magnificat.") 

1286.    Adoration  of  the  Magi 
1289.    Madonna  with  Angels. 
1 299.  Fortitude. 
(No  number)    Adoration  of  the  Magi. 
Pitti  Palace  (Appartamento  Reale). 

Pallas  subduing  a  Centaur. 
Church  of  Ognissanii. 

S.  Augustine.  (Fresco.) 
FRANKFORT-ON-MAIN. 
Staedel  Institute 

1 E.    Ideal  Portrait  of  a  Woman. 

LONDON. 

National  Gallery, 

Adoration  of  the  Magi. 

Birth  of  Christ  (1500). 

Mars  and  Venus. 
Mond  Collection. 

Scenes  from  the  Life  of  S.  Zenobius. 

MILAN. 

Ambrosiana. 

14.5,    Madonna  with  Angels. 
Poldi-Pezzoli  Museum. 

Madonna  with  Child. 


68 


BOTTICELLI 


PARIS. 

Louvre. 

1297.  Lorenzo  Tornabuoni  presented  to  the  Lib- 

eral Arts.  (Fresco). 

1298.  Giovanna  degli  Albizzi    greeted    by  the 

Four  Cardinal  Virtues.  (Fresco.) 

ROME. 

Sis  tine  Chapel. 

Purification  of  the  Leper  and  Temptation 

of  Christ. 
History  of  Moses. 

Punishment  of  the  Company  of  Korah. 
Portraits  of  the  early  Popes. 
(All  the  above  are  in  fresco    and    were  painted 
1 481-1482.) 

Collection  of  the  Marchese  Pallavicini. 

The  Wife  of  the  Levite. 

ST.  PETERSBURG. 

The  Hermitage. 

163.    Adoration  of  the  Magi. 


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